


M is for Magical Silliness

by sapphirebluerubyredroses



Series: ABC Challenge [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 20:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 93,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1954881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirebluerubyredroses/pseuds/sapphirebluerubyredroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles enters Hogwarts late, coming in during his third year, really, how much trouble could a boy two years behind get into? The answer is a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Finding a Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to you, this started out as a one-shot that was supposed to be something cute, but turned into something huge. I don’t really know how it happened.
> 
> I also have an account on Fanfiction under sapphire blue-ruby red roses and on Tumblr under shutupandshipit where this has been posted

Stiles let out a shuddering breath as the last First Year was called to the stool, the Sorting Hat placed on her head. She scampered off towards the Ravenclaws, a strangely familiar strawberry blonde sitting next to a boy switching songs on a phone, smiling invitingly at her. He too seemed strangely familiar, but he couldn’t place their faces.

Doing a cursory glance around the Great Hall, actually taking in some of the faces, he spotted at least another that looked like he could be someone he knew. He sat at the Slytherin table, seeming oblivious to the boy still standing on his own.

All eyes turned to him as Professor Argent rolled the scroll of parchment back up, sliding it into a deep pocket of his somewhat shabby robes, though from age instead of cost. Stiles’ chest felt tight, his breathing hard and shallow. He resisted the urge to fish for the inhaler and medication he no longer carried with him. He thought he had grown out of his panic attacks.

Headmaster Deaton smiled reassuringly at him as he stood, running his hands down his robes. He looked across the Great Hall, at all the young faces staring back at Stiles, then at the teachers to his sides. “To those who are new, welcome to Hogwarts. To those returning, welcome back. Before we begin the feast, we have one last sorting to do. Mr. Stilinski has come to us in his third year from a muggle school in Beacon Hills, California on the west coast of America. Due to his special circumstances, he was delayed in starting here, but will none the less be joining his fellow Third Year peers in their day to day classes.” Immediately, whispers burst out around the hall, outraged and wondering and concerned. “But first, I’d say we need to find Mr. Stilinski a House.” He motioned Stiles forward with a kind smile.

Silence, thick and wary, filled the hall, all waiting to see where he would be placed.

Stepping forward on shaky legs, sliding onto the stool, Stiles gripped his wand through his robes as the Sorting Hat was lowered onto his head, dropping to cover his eyes and ears. Giggles ran through the students. He could feel the blush creeping up his neck as he pushed the hat up onto his forehead. He could feel his wand already beginning to burn a hole through his robes.

“Very interesting. A mother from Gryffindor, a muggle father worthy of the same, but you could belong to many. Daring and brave enough to run with wolves, loyal and hardworking. Smart, very, very smart, but in an unorganized way. Resourceful and cunning in a way others won’t be able to match. Which would be best, I wonder?” the Hat mused in Stiles’ ear, humming as it slowly decided where to place him. “Let’s see… I’ll have to say… Slytherin!”

A cheer rose from the Slytherins, Stiles slipping from the stool as the Sorting Hat was plucked from his head to rush for his new House mates. He slipped into an empty space between a sickly looking girl with dull, curly blonde hair smiling shyly at him and a boy with an identical twin stationed at the Hufflepuff table.

“And with that, let the feast begin.” Deaton clapped his hands, the food appearing before them. “I hope we have a wondrous year.”

…..

It was nearly Christmas Vacation when Stiles felt eyes boring into the back of his head as he leaned over a Seventh Year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. He’d nicked it from a table in the common room when no one had claimed it or come looking for it. He’d thought he’d be safe in the library, but he’d been wrong.

Glancing surreptitiously over his shoulder towards the tuft of black hair poking out from behind a bookcase, he whispered a levitation charm. A surprised cry echoed from Stiles’ victim. Bringing the boy forward, Stiles frowned, his eyebrows meeting in the middle of his forehead. “Who the hell are you?”

The boy, flipped upside down and his robes trailing the floor grinned widely. He hadn’t gone for his wand, probably because Stiles had become known for hexing people who snuck up on him or made anything threatening gesture after that Fifth Year... There was a reason he hadn’t made any friends since the beginning of the year, that and he was constantly looking to learn something new, especially since he’d come into his third year already ahead of half of his year.

“Dude, this is awesome! I mean, I’m getting king of lightheaded, but I’ve never been able to get that charm right. I’m kind of hopeless at Charms,” the boy wheezed. Snaking a hand into his pocket, he pulled out an inhaler, taking a deep breath from it before returning it to his pocket.

“That’s… muggle medication,” Stiles said slowly, his eyebrows rising. “Oh crap, sorry!” he cried, fumbling his wand. Before he could softly lower the other boy to the floor, he crashed down. “Oh shit! I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine, didn’t hurt that much,” the boy said, waving away Stiles’ flapping, flustering hands and grinning, “My name is Scott McCall. You’re Stilinski, right? What’s your first name?”

“Appalling,” Stiles replied, trying not to smile as Scott let out a burst of laughter, “Just call me Sitles. You’re Madame McCall’s son. Why do you have an inhaler? That’s what muggles use to treat asthma.”

Smiling and taking Stiles’ outstretched hand, he told him, “Yeah, we know. I have asthma. Mom says that muggles invent helpful things just like wizards do. She says you don’t always need magic for everything. Inhalers have always worked better for me than the potion for treating it. Plus, it doesn’t taste as bad.” He shrugged.

“Wow, I’ve… never heard of a witch or wizard praising muggles before,” Stiles murmured, his dad immediately apparating into his mind. He swallowed, his throat suddenly tight.

“Well, my mom likes how muggles can’t use magic for anything and yet still achieve so many things. She thinks the muggle world is remarkable,” Scott explained.

“Tell her thank you, please,” Stiles told him then frowned, “Why were you stalking me in the library?”

Scott’s face lit up, cheeks going a rosy red. “No, I wasn’t stalking you!” he said quickly, “I was trying to figure out how to introduce myself because I always see you alone, but you’re like second in our year and I’m, well, we’re not going to talk about where I am, and so I was a little intimidated, but I want to be your friend because you look lonely. I’m babbling, so I’m going to shut up now.” Sealing his lips shut, he stared at Stiles with wide, imploring, puppy-dog eyes.

Stiles grinned. “You were intimidated by me? I’m like a twig with legs and arms. Why would you want to be my friend? Nobody wants to be my friend.”

“That’s not true! I do and so does my friend Isaac in Hufflepuff,” Scott exclaimed indignantly, “We just don’t know how to talk to you. We never hear you say anything, and… my mom kind of let it slip about your mom.” His voice trailed off into an unintelligible whisper, his eyes on his shoes. “I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to lose a parent, if not to the extent that you have.”

They were silent for a few moments, Stiles trying his damnedest not to cry, and Scott wishing he’d never opened his mouth.

“I’m really sorry,” Scott started again, “My mom can be your mom too. It’s just that, you look so lonely, and I don’t want to see you sitting alone if we’re both going to the same place anyway. I thought we could be friends and go together with the others.”

His despair completely forgotten, even if for a few moments, Stiles stared at Scott. “What are you even talking about?”

Scott’s eyes widened. “Dude, you don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?” Stiles ran his fingers agitatedly along his wand which sparked feebly.

Scott tracked the sparks like a kitten tracking a lazar pointer. “You’re not the only one who live in Beacon Hills.”

Stiles’ hand stilled on the shaft of his wand. “Who else lives there? Scott, who else lives there?” He resisted from shaking him.

“Uh, let’s see… Lydia Martin-”

“You mean, goddess of my life. We were in the same class since Kindergarten. It took me awhile to figure out who the strawberry blonde was, but once I paired up with her in potions, I figured it out.”

Scott laughed. “Um, Jackson-”

“Asshole,” Stiles corrected.

Snorting, Scott continued, “Erica Reyes and Matt Dahler from Slytherin. Bennett Smith, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey and some kid named Greenberg from Hufflepuff. Danny Mahealaui from Ravenclaw. Then there is Malia Tate from Gryffindor… oh, and the Hales. Bennett, Matt, and Greenberg are taking their holidays someplace else apparently.”

Stiles eyes grew wide as he glanced away, fingers pressed to his mouth in thought. “I knew the Hales from somewhere.” He glanced at Scott. “I don’t know who most of those people are, but that explains why our class shrunk so drastically when I turned eleven. I got my letter, but I never suspected the others did too, besides Lydia. She was always brilliant and nothing short of amazing. But why did so many of us come from the same little, unremarkable town?”

“Dunno, but anyway, what do you say? Friends?” Scott stuck out his hand, grinning widely.

Stiles breathed out a laugh. “Sure, friends… I’m just wondering, why are we all flying if Madame McCall and Professor Hale are coming too? Can’t they just apparate us?”

“Well, my mom is almost as bad as I am at any charm that doesn’t involve healing. And apparently, Professor Hale since she’s still fifteen, still kinda splices herself whenever she tries to apparate, so they just stay away from it.” Scott shrugged.

“Wow, I never knew apparating was so hard.”

“Neither did I.”

Stiles did a double-take. “Wait… why is a fifteen-year-old teaching classes?”

“She’s brilliant and kind of graduated early. I don’t know! Why are you asking me?”

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “Because you’ve been here for two and a half years now.”

“Stiles, you really think that means anything? I still get lost on my way to Herbology.”

“Scott, that’s your mom’s class.”

Scott spread his hands wide. “And my point is made.”

…..

“Dude, I’m so tired, I could sleep for a week,” Scott yawned as they were herded from the airport by Mr. Stilinski, who’d volunteered to pick everyone up seeing as the blizzard had made it nearly impossible to move, and Melissa, who’d travelled with them.

“If you do that, I’m not carrying you,” Stiles told him jokingly. He, Scott and the rest had spent at the very least twenty-four hours stuck on flights and layovers trying to get back home. Now that they were in San Francisco, they had several hours worth of being in the car to look forward to. On the way over, the two had spent much of their time chattering together and the rest with Stiles, Isaac, Danny and Lydia trying to explain Apples to Apples and Cards Against Humanity to the half-bloods and pure-bloods.

It had been… eventful to say the least. Lots of shouting and loud banter punctuated by short periods of cat naps. Lydia, Stiles and Laura had all tied for most wins which wouldn’t have happened if one Derek grumpy-cat Hale hadn’t decided to join in on the last round and smoked all of them.

Melissa had secretly taken a number of pictures, the most memorable of which had been Laura pinning her brother to the floor in rage at not winning. It was the first time any of them had seen him smile or laugh.

Which brought them to the here and now with Stiles glancing at the other boy every few seconds, unable to get the sound of his laughter from his mind, and Scott pawing at him like a neglected.

“I’m sorry, guys,” Sheriff Stilinski started from the front, starting the van and blasting the heater, “You’re parents would have come, but we’ve asked them to stay in their homes, and we can’t risk breaking down trying to drive you all home, so we’ll be at my home until the storm clears.”

Melissa turned in her seat as the entire van groaned tiredly, smiling at the group squished onto three benches. “When we get to Sheriff Stilinski’s home, I’ll see if I can reach your parents, just so they all know you’re alright and such.”

“Thank you, Madame McCall,” Laura said, smiling tiredly beside the window, “I just hope the storm clears soon after we get there.”

“I’m sure it will. Sheriff, you said there were blankets in the back? Stiles, could you grab those, please?”

“Sure!” he said, quickly unbuckling from his and Erica’s shared seatbelt and crawling into the little trunk space the van provided. There wasn’t even enough room to stack five lacrosse bags. They’d strapped their trunks to the roof of the can, and only Erica had an animal, a cat small enough to fit in a teacup slept curled in her jacket. The cat was meant to alert her if a seizure was on the horizon. Stiles still that it was actually an animagus.

“Blanket 1,” he called, throwing it at the back of Isaac’s head and earning a scowl from the usually reserved boy, “Pass that to Mama McCall.” Without pause, he threw the next again at Isaac who snatched it from the air this time. “Blanket 2.” The next he threw to Scott. “Blanket 3. And Blanket 4.” Tucking the fourth under his arm, his favorite, he attempted to climb back over the seat without hurting anyone, but himself.

Leaning over the seat, he attempted to sliver back into his spot. Instead, he started to slip forward towards the floor. Flailing hand caught on a shirt, and warm hands quickly found their home on his waist. Laura giggled.

Prying his eyes slowly open, Stiles found himself face to face with Derek sassy-eyebrows Hale. He was a third crouched on the floor, a third on the seat, and another between Mr. Scowly’s knees, though his eyebrows seemed thoroughly surprised.

“Hey, Stilinski,” Jackson growled on the other side of Erica, “Can you be a little less gay?”

Snapping from his second-long revere of Derek, plopping back down in his seat, he spat back, “Hey, Jackson, can you be a little less of an asshole? Just for your snarky remarks, you can’t share the blanket. Come closer Erica, the Hales and I will share with you.” Unfolding the blanket, he threw it across the five of their knees.

…..

The Sheriff sighed as he made an attempt to flip on the lights. He brushed snow from stiles’ hair before helping Melissa out of her coat. “Powers out, sorry kids. I’ll get a fire started. Stiles, can you get the air mattresses and such?”

“K, Dad,” Stiles replied, pulling his trunk towards the stairs, “Scott, dude, come help me.”

Grinning, Scott trampled up the stairs behind Stiles. “So, this is your room?” Scott asked as he pushed into a room. In it, everything was in its proper place, not a typical thirteen-year-old’s room, even one who’d been gone for three and a half months. A computer sat silently on a desk beside a slowly filling bookshelf. You could have bounced a coin off of his bed sheets. A picture of Stiles, his father, and a woman sat on the desk, the frame scratched and worn, but loved. “It’s nice, I like it. Is that your mom?”

“Yeah, can you help me with these? There’s like five. And then I have to get the blankets and pillows,” Stiles asked, quickly diverting the conversation to something that didn’t rip his heart into ever smaller pieces.

“Sure, I’ll take those down.” Taking the mattresses from him waiting, Scott couldn’t help the question that spilled from his mouth. “Stiles, how did your mother die?”

Immediately, a picture frame right beside Scott’s head shattered, a spider web spreading across the glass. A triangle of glass slipped from the frame, shattering against the floor.

“I’m so sorry,” Stiles whispered, voice thick with tears as he stared at the frame. The picture was one of Stiles’ mother pushing him on a swing, grinning just as wide as he usually did, thought much more genuine. His breath was coming hard, his pupils dilated with panic.

Multiple sets of footsteps thundered up the stairs. “Stiles, what was that?” the Sheriff asked as he crested the stairs, looking between the two boys, one shocked beyond words and the other dropping his head between his knees. “Stiles!” he rushed for the boy, pulling his shaking body into his arms.

“Scott, what happened?” Melissa cried, running to the boy. Her wand hand twitched, returning the glass to its original pristine state. Gently, she pushed his hair out of his wide eyes.

Scott clutched at the mattresses to his chest. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. I asked a question I shouldn’t have and he had a magical outburst. I’m sorry!”

“No, Scott, it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just calm down,” Stiliski told the boy, ducking his head to whisper to his son.

At the top of the stairs, the Hales stood watching the commotion. At the bottom, the rest of the group looked up curiously at their backs.

With a glance over his shoulder, Derek released a sigh. Stepping passed his sisters, he offered, “Mr. Stilinski, if you’ll allow me, I can try to calm him. I think the others are a little startled. I think they’ll need reassuring.” The Sheriff only glanced at him. “Sir, please, I’ve dealt with people who have attacks. I know some things that may calm him down faster.”

After a moment of consideration, Stilinski nodded jerkily. “Okay, um, Melissa, can you come help me?” he asked, stepping to the side before ushering everyone else back down the stairs.

Slowly, Derek approached the boy as if he were a frightened animal. He could smell the terror, the aching pain, the longing and sorrow. He remembered it well. Crouching beside him, Derek reached out gentle hands for Stiles’ arms. “Stiles, Stiles count with me. Slowly up to ten, feel everything you’re feeling now. The loss, the ache, the tear that you think will never close, the fear. Feel it all, and when we get back to one, just let it go. Breath slowly, deeply, as calmly as you can. Can you do that, Stiles?”

Peaking out from between quavering fingers, he nodded the slightest bit.

“Good… one… two…”

Stiles echoed Derek, his voice small, insignificant, terrified. As they reached ten, he hid his face in his knees, releasing a feeble whimper that turned into a single sob, “Mom…”

“Now back. Ten… nine…” Stiles’ shivering slowed to a stop and he lifted his head from between his knees. When they finally reached one, he was smiling shakily at the other boy.

“Thanks,” he whispered, clawing his way to his feet using the cabinet door, ignoring Derek’s outstretched hand. “How did you know what to do?”

Derek frowned, staring at the blankets and pillows Stiles was beginning to snatch up from the floor. Slowly, he bent and pulled several into his arms. “I lost someone important to me too, back when I was a First Year. She was… I really loved her, and then she was gone just like that.”

Stiles’ hands stilled on the comforters in his arms. He couldn’t meet Derek’s eyes. “How dod you do it? How do you manage to seem like it doesn’t affect you every day? My mom, she’s been gone for five years now, and I’m still having panic attacks.” He laughed without humor.

“That’s the thing,” Derek started, hefting the comforters, “I’m thinking about it. I’m always regretting my decisions. I’m always feeling the gaping hole in my heart. I use it to push me forward, to keep living for the both of us so that maybe she won’t hate me.”

“But my mother was a great witch. She was Head Auror,” Stiles whispered, “How can I live for the both of us when she was so extraordinary?”

“You’ll just have to be just as extraordinary, make your life interesting.”

Stiles nodded, still staring at the blankets. Finally, he found Derek’s eyes watching him carefully, “That girl, what was her name?”

Derek blinked in surprise. “Paige,” he forced out.

Grinning widely, Stiles said, “Then I’ll just have to live for her too.”

…..

It took two days for the storm to die down before Melissa could melt a path to the others’ homes. For those two days, Stiles had woken up to the blissful warmth of being sandwiched between Derek the space heater and Scott while Melissa used his bed. For the rest of vacation, Scott and Stiles jumped between their housed like rabbits on speed. It wasn’t until the day before they were meant to return to Hogwarts that the fear of returning crept in.

He’d be leaving his dad again for months with an empty house. He was going back to a House full of people who refused to talk to him because he was muggle born. He was going back to Lydia and Cora and Danny and Derek and all the others not talking to him anymore. It hurt to even think of it.

The only upside was that he’d be allowed to use magic again and of course, because Scott would be there. He could always skip class to talk to Mama McCall in the Infirmary.

‘At least I have them,’ Stiles thought as he clambered into the packed van the next day, taking his seat beside Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, I’m finally done typing this up. My hands hurt. I hope it was worth the read.


	2. Activities in the Common Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first song is 'Old Time Rock And Roll by Bob Seger', the second is 'Black Sheep by Gin Wigmore' and the third is 'Mucho Mumbo (Sway) by Shaft'.

Poking his head surreptitiously around the corner leading to the boys' dormitories, Stiles scanned the common room for any signs of Slytherins. It was absolutely barren, void of any life save for Stiles himself.

A grin splitting across his face, he set his iPod and speakers at the entrance, putting it on blast. "Yes, today will be good," he said, pressing play as he ran back down the hall. As the first cords of the song filled the cavernous room, Stiles slid into the hallway intersection wearing only his socks, Batman boxers and one of Scott's cloaks. He wouldn't be missing it anytime soon.

' _Just take those old records off the shelf!_ ' he shouted into his wand, the tip shooting sparks towards the ceiling, ' _I sit and listen to them by myself!_ '

He moved his body to the beat of the music, dancing his way down the stairs. ' _Today's music ain't got the same soul! I like that old time rock n' roll!_ ' His shoulders joined vigorously in the movement of his body, his head whipping back and forth.

' _Don't try to take me to a disco! You'll never even get me out on the floor! In ten minutes I'll be late for the door! I like that old time rock n' roll!_ ' If singing into a wand could be sassy, Stiles sure could manage it.

By the end of the song, he'd made a complete circuit around the common room, nearly fallen over twice with how hard he was moving, and was wondering exactly how he'd managed to transfigure a chandelier arm into a flamingo. As the next song started up, he was pulling on his next persona, pressing his hand to his cocked hip.

' _I got lots of jealous lovers that all wish they had me back_ ,' he sang, running a hand down his body. His sass was on full blast and suddenly, he was regretting not looking up a charm for temporary long hair. ' _Got a pistol for a mouth, my old mama gave me that._ ' He pressed a finger right below he lower lip near the corner of his mouth.

As the next words spilled from his mouth, he began to strut. ' _Making my own road out of gravel and some wine. And if I have to fall, then it won't be in your line_!' He shot out a finger, pointing at a non-existent participant.

' _Everybody's doing it so why the hell should I_?' He pointed to himself, looking confused and annoyed. ' _Everybody's doing it so why the hell should I_!' He was channeling his inner Braedon, the stubborn Slytherin who had an affinity for weapons and always seemed to at least have a knife on her person.

"Stiles?" someone called over the music just as Stiles was yelling along with it, ' _I'm a bad woman to keep! Make me mad, I'm not here to please! Paint me in a corner, but my color comes back. Once you go black, you never go back_!'

Startled, Stiles fell over the back of a couch in his rush to spin around. "Cheesy rice! Derek!" he shouted before he could stop his mouth.

Giving him the most confused look he possessed, Derek pulled Stiles to his feet. "Stiles, you do realize you're like white bread, right? You are nowhere near black."

"Doesn't mean I can't channel my inner black girl, she demands to have her spot light," Stiles snapped playfully, already moving to the beat of the new song, swaying his hips and twirling his wand as it spewed a small ring of blue flames.

Derek rolled his eyes.

"So, how did you get into the Slytherin common room?"

"Erica asked me if I could come check on you. She thought you were sick because you didn't meet her to go to breakfast this morning. She would have come herself, but she had to go see Melissa and she can't get into the boys' dormitories. So, you're just skipping classes then?"

Stiles smiled sheepishly, wanly. "I didn't mean to make her worry. I had an attack today in the bathroom while I was taking my shower. Then some of the other guys started getting in my face, and I kind of screamed at them before breaking down once they were gone. I didn't think I could do social today."

"Oh," Derek frowned, "Do you want me to leave then?"

"What? No! Who said that? Come dance with me, a good song is starting to play," Stiles said quickly, rushing towards the boy and grabbing his hands.

"I don't think-" Derek started, but Stiles cut him off.

"It's fine! Doesn't matter if you can dance or not, just move to the music!"

With the opening notes filling the room, Derek tried to force down a small smile as Stiles pulled him into a simple dance consisting of swaying back and forth, and doing something with their arms that Derek wasn't exactly sure how to explain. ' _When the rhythm, rhythm starts to play, dance with me, make me sway_ ,' Stiles sang to him, grabbing Derek's hips and forcing them to move in a way that was most definitely unnatural for the thirteen-year-old, ' _Like lazy ocean laps the shore, hold me close, sway me more._ '

Pulling Derek almost flush against his body, he laughed and started dancing around the other. ' _When the rhythm, rhythm starts to play, dance with me, make me sway. Like the lazy ocean laps the shore, hold me close, sway me more_.' If it had been anyone other than Stiles, Derek would have almost certainly been supremely uncomfortable with the entire interaction and/or ripped the other's throat out.

As Stiles danced away from him, Derek asked, "I've been wondering since I got here, but why are you wearing just boxers, socks and your cloak? Wait, is that… Scott's cloak?"

The song changed, a slow, sad song that didn't seem to belong to the album. "Why, yes, it is. Clothes are for the weak of heart and self-conscious of skin," Stiles said loftily, sliding to his phone and quickly changing it, "If I came to class in hooker heels one day, what would you do?"

"Ask you who you got the heels from, I'd suspect Lydia, then why you were wearing them in the first place, then wait to see if you'd fall over or break an ankle," Derek said without much thought.

Stiles grinned. "You really think I'd fall over? I beg to differ."

"I really hope you're not actually considering doing that."

"No, of course not. Why would you ever think that?" Stiles asked too innocently, disappearing in search of a t-shirt and maybe shorts, but probably not.

Derek shook his head. "Are you going to do this all day?"

"Just until people start to show up again, why? Are you going to stay and dance with me?" he asked almost jokingly. Stiles reappeared, his cloak gone and in its place, a Superman t-shirt.

Shrugging, Derek said, "I've got nothing better to do except for classes, but I'm feeling very non-social today as well."

"Then you've come to the right place. Kick off your shoes, and let's get dancing." Switching to a new song, Stiles threw himself into a new dance, dragging an only partly resistant Derek along.

…..

"I can't feel my legs," Derek growled, spread eagle on the common room floor, his shirt somewhere by Stiles' speakers, and his pants ready to follow, "What the hell, Stiles?"

Laughing breathlessly, Stiles pushed himself up, looking up through one of the windows where afternoon sun shone through the water. "Hey, you said you'd dance with me. No complaining, sour wolf."

"I didn't think you meant for four hours!"

"Well, now you know for next time." Crawling away, Stiles turned down the music and sat against the corridor wall. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

Sitting up, Derek glanced over his shoulder. "Like one of those moving muggle picture things? I guess so. It's not like we actually have anything to do."

"Dude, you live in Beacon Hills, one of the most non-magic towns around, and you've never watched a movie?" Stiles asked, appalled. Was he talking to an alien species or just a very ignorant teenager? He really couldn't tell. Shaking his head, he disappeared into the dormitories. "You have so much catching up to do."

"My family likes to keep to themselves. And I wouldn't say that Beacon Hills is one of the most muggle towns…"

"What do you mean by that?" Stiles reappeared, his arms full of wires, a projector, a small DVD player and a DVD case.

Derek shrugged, watching with curiosity as Stiles set up the projector. Where he was getting the electricity, he wasn't sure. Just like he wasn't entirely sure where Danny in Ravenclaw got his electricity to run his computers and cameras. He was almost positive that it wasn't legal in either the muggle or wizarding world. Actually, he wasn't entirely sure where he hid the entire set up. Oh, the mysteries of the muggle-borns. "There are a lot of magical families there, it seems, among other things."

"Among other things... very descriptive," Stiles said distractedly, pulling out his wand. He flicked it at a white blanket sitting on a couch. It lifted, spreading out, and fastened itself to the wall.

Derek watched the boy with wondering eyes. This was the boy who had been at Hogwarts for less than a year. This was the boy who'd been practicing magic for less than a year. This was the boy who still had magical outbursts almost on a daily! This was the boy who was second in their year, and could hex without a second's thought. "You're amazing," he whispered.

"What was that?" Stiles spun towards him, grinning like the sun he was.

"Nothing," Derek said quickly finding a seat in front of the screen, "What are we watching?"

"I'm thinking ' _Moulin Rouge_ ' just because I can't find my unscratched disc of X-men and I'm still feeling rather singy still."

"And what the hell is ' _Moulin Rouge_ '?" Derek asked apprehensively, wondering if it had anything to do with the brothel in Paris.

Stiles grinned. "You'll find out."

…..

Frowning, Derek heard a sniffle from the other side of the couch. Slowly turning his head to the other boy, his mouth dropped open just the slightest bit. Stiles was crying. Stiles was fucking crying. "Why the hell are you crying?" he shouted over the singing of the couple and Stiles' thick mumbling along with the song, "We just started the movie!"

"You don't understand!" Stiles shouted back dramatically, rubbing at his eyes. "You won't understand till the end!"

"Then stop sobbing so I can watch the movie!" It was becoming hard not to laugh.

"Make me!" Stiles shouted childishly.

Sighing, Derek grabbed the boy, quickly whipped his face before shoving it into the couch. "There, I made you. Let's watch the movie."

…..

"Stiles, what the actual fuck is this?" Jackson snapped, interrupting said boy just as he was dipping a hand into a bowl of popcorn nestled between his legs. "What is a Gryffindor doing in here? And why aren't you wearing any pants?"

Stiles glanced uninterestedly over his shoulder at his fellow Slytherin. "We're watching a movie, obviously."

"Pants? And…" he glanced at the still very shirtless Derek readily ignoring him, a blanket thrown over the laps of the couch's occupants, "Shirt?"

"Optional." Stiles readjusted, sitting crisscross between Derek and Erica, who had long since discarded her uniform in favor of sweatpants and baggy t-shirt. "You're welcome to join, just shut up." Stiles motioned towards the other groups of Slytherins watching ' _Easy A_ '. All of the participants let out snickers of laughter, and Stiles fell sideways into Derek laughing. He stayed there, snuggling into his side.

"Seriously, could you two get any gayer?" Jackson snarled, rolling his eyes hard.

Stiles shrugged. "I could be giving him a blowjob or riding him like a rollercoaster at Disneyland, but I'm not," he pointed out.

"You know what, just shut up. Why are all these people actually putting up with your muggle shit?"

"Because it's rad as hell and homework sucks major monkey testicles," Stiles said monotonously, "Would you sit the fuck down or go get Lydia or something?"

Pretending to strangle Stiles from behind for a few short moments, Jackson turned away in a huff to find Lydia. Maybe she could talk some sense into him. Scott squeezed by him into the Slytherin common room as he left.

As he marched towards his best friend, Scott shouted at the top of his lungs, "I HEARD YOU WERE WATCHING MOVIES WIHTOUT ME, STILES!" He flung himself over the back of the couch, landing between Stiles and an Erica who looked on the verge of a heart attack.

"Yep," Stiles said shortly, not taking his eyes off the screen as Scott reached for the bowl in his lap.

"I hope you don't mind that I told the others."

"Who does 'the others' entail?"

"Lydia, Danny, Isaac, Boyd, Professor Laura, Cora, Malia, and the twins."

Stiles pursed his lips. "So, in short, you mean the entire student body."

"Yeah, basically."

"Great, the more the merrier. This room isn't nearly full enough for a movie night."

"Exactly what I was thinking." Scott snaked his hand into the popcorn bowl he now possessed, slapping away Stiles' hand.

Derek blinked at the pair. "Did you just say you told my sisters?" Wide-eyed, mouth stuffed full of popcorn, Scott nodded at him. He groaned loudly. Before he could say another word, they were descending on him.

"You thought you could watch movies and cuddle Stiles without us?" Laura said as she squeezed between Stiles and Scott and Cora landed in Stiles' lap, making him wheeze in pain, "That's not fair."

"Tell me you didn't bring anyone else," Derek growled.

Laura grinned mischievously. "Oh, not many, just, you know, the other three houses, and maybe my colleagues." As the words tumbled from her mouth, students sporting pajamas and hefting blankets spilled into the room, filling the space with chatter and laughter. They mingled amongst each other, filling every available space that the movie could be seen from. Even the teachers banded together and lined up against a wall.

Derek groaned even as Stiles grinned. "Dude, this is awesome. I can tell that this is totally going to become a thing. Every Friday night from now on." He lowered his voice, glancing conspiratorially between his couch of friends. "Next time, I'll be sure to make a run to Hogsmeade from the essentials."

"The essentials?" Derek's skeptical eyebrow made an appearance.

"Yeah, Honeydukes, butterbeer, firewhiskey…" he said, ticking them off on his fingers, "Oh and this new wolfsbane vodka my friend gave me! That stuff totally makes your tongue go numb, sucks for trying to make out with someone, but those with magical creature blood can totally get wasted for once," he explained around his tongue where he'd stuck it out for demonstration.

Derek and Cora rolled their eyes in unison while the rest simple laughed.

…..

Headmaster Deaton was making his way back to his office when the lack of students filling the halls finally dawned on him. It was still two hours before all students had to be in their House common rooms. Normally, students would still be roaming the halls, causing mischief and pissing each other off.

His eyes narrowed. "Where's Stiles?" he wondered idly. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of the boy all day, which was highly unusual.

Half way to the Slytherin common room, he heard the raucous laughter. Frowning deeply, he entered to find his entire school, students and all, crammed into the large room. Students filled every available sitting space from the floors to the couches, claiming even each other's laps. The teachers leaned against the walls, snickering into their collars. At the very front of the pack, Stiles bounced between Scott and Derek, chattering in their ears.

"Ah, now I understand." Going to stand beside Madame McCall as the students called her, the head nurse, he asked, "How's the movie?"

Melissa startled, grasping the front of her robes. "Headmaster, you scared me," she gasped. Once her breathing had evened out, she said, "It's going well. I've never seen the houses get along for this long. Stiles is a wonder."

"We've known that for some time now," Deaton nodded.


	3. An Argument of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Lydia scare the crap out of Derek and Kate, and Danny, Lydia and Laura gang up on Stiles.

"I'm not sure what I should show tonight," Stiles commented, twirling his wand idly between his fingers. He and Lydia leaned against a column watching the First Years scurry around in a panic, readily avoiding Transfiguration with Peter, Derek's creepy ass uncle who always seemed to be sniffing them. Every time they walked into his classroom, he'd give them a look that seemed to accuse, or maybe congratulate, them on taking his nephew's supposed virtue. Even his questions, when asking them, always seemed pointed on figuring out their relationship to Derek. Disconcerting was not even the word for how the whole thing made them feel.

"You should show ' _Forest Gump_ ' or-"

Stiles cut her off. "We are not watching ' _The Notebook_ ', Lydia, my darling. ' _Forest Gump_ ' will do just fine. Thank you for your suggestion. Maybe we'll watch ' _How to Train Your Dragon_ ' also."

Lydia flashed him a sharp smile, a smile that said she'd get her way soon enough. Her eyes slid over the crowd landing on a suspiciously dark crevice behind a statue. Twitching her wand, the faked darkness lifted revealing Kate Argent thoroughly kissing one Mr. Derek I-should-be-heading-to-Potions Hale. Her eyes narrowed.

Kate Argent wasn't significantly older than them, maybe five or six years older, but the gap in maturity added a nasty taste to the illicit relationship. Kate still thought her charm was up because her eyes slid to them, a triumphant, wicked light sparking in her eyes.

The pair could almost taste her ulterior motive. They wondered idly if Professor Gerard Argent knew his daughter was a skank who was into pubescent boys because they were almost positive that her brother, Chris Argent, knew. What with the way he was constantly avoiding conversations with her and steering students clear of her.

Stiles ground his teeth audibly. "Bitch," he snarled. A Fifth Year student yelped as his book burst into confetti. Stiles flinched, muttering a quiet apology before turning his attention back to the problem at hand. "Hey, Lydia, want to see something funny?"

"Always," Lydia said, smiling widely as she tucked her fingers into her crossed arms.

Almost exploding with magical energy, Stiles slid out of Kate's line of sight. Once she'd turned her attention back to the teen in her claws, Stiles whispered, "Expecto patronum." A white ball of light burst from the tip of his wand, landing in the center of the group of Third Year Hufflepuffs in the form of a large she-wolf.

Coming around to resume his position, Stiles smiled broadly as the hall dissolved in panic. His patronus held her head high watching them for a prolonged moment. Raising her muzzle, she released a long, angered howl. She rushed between Derek and Kate, knocking them apart before standing possessively over Derek.

Lydia laughed, watching the commotion. "My turn," she said, holding out her wand, "Expecto patronum."

Her patronus formed on the Seventh Year's back that is had accidentally knocked to the dusty floor. The pointed features of a small fox stared back at them, her tail flicking playfully. Turning, she pounced onto Kate's stomach, flattening her to the ground once more before jumping around Derek and Stiles' wolf, batting at them, trying to get them to join in her fun.

Lydia smiled, then frowned. "Stiles, I thought your patronus was a hummingbird."

"It used to be back at the beginning of last year," Stiles nodded, watching his wolf snarl at the bewildered Kate while simultaneously playing with Lydia's fox, "I'm still surprised that the spell came so easily to me for how difficult everyone says it is."

"Yeah, you and everyone else who ever saw you perform it. I remember seeing you practice by the Whomping Willow a few times. When you finally got it, it was just this tiny hummingbird that kept flitting around your head. You were disgustingly glowing when you walked into Potions that morning."

Stiles beamed. "Yeah, it was awesome, but my patronus changed sometime after Christmas last year. I'm still not sure why though."

Staring at her friend for a long moment, Lydia sighed. "Let's go take a walk." She threaded her arm through his, pulling him towards the grounds. Kate had already shot them a nasty glare and stormed off to her Charms classroom leaving Derek staring at the patronuses, so she figured it was safe to leave.

"What? Right now? Class is about to start I hope you know," Stiles said, not attempting to resist her.

"Did you really want to go to Professor Peter's? Truly? Honestly? It's not like we actually need to be in class for today's lesson. He might try to play chess with you or, I don't know, kidnap you and leave you tied up in a maid's uniform that's two sizes too small on Derek's bed for him to find."

Stiles stared over at her. "I… I can tell you've had a long thought about this. Did you come up with that scenario while you watched Peter resist tearing out my throat during class?"

Lydia rolled her eyes dramatically, complete with the fluttering of her eyelashes. "Come on, Stiles. Even Scott, **oblivious** Scott, can feel the sexual tension between you and Derek. Someone like Peter can probably taste it on the air, and he was only in the same room as you two **once** over summer. Remember Talia? She almost burst from trying to control her need to start planning a wedding!"

Stiles scoffed, waving her off, "You are delusional, my dear."

"Am I? Am I really? Honestly, half the time when I see the two of you together, I just want to cast a gravitation charm or sticking charm to the two of you. Or run up and slam your faces together, screaming, 'Now kiss!'"

"Lydia, are you crazy? You know how I feel about you. I'm pretty sure I'm attracted to those of the female gender, and gay guys aren't attracted to me anyway. I already asked Danny. Plus, did you see how that bitch and Derek were glued together? I'm certain he's just as attracted to the opposite gender as I am."

Again, Lydia rolled her eyes. "No, I'm extremely sane, thank you. You, on the other hand, are not. You're not in love with me, at least not romantically anymore. I don't get that vibe off of you. Anyway, you can be attracted to boys and girls at the same time. It's called being bisexual or having sexual fluidity, which, let's be honest, has you written all over it. As for Danny, just ignore his assessment. He's more into the 'tall, dark and mysterious', not the 'small, pale and possibly related to a pixie.'"

"What about my tastes?" Danny asked, suddenly appearing on Lydia's other side, "Were those your patronuses in the corridor? I got a video. Kate looks pissed."

"As she should, the stupid…" Stiles words disappeared into an angry mutter.

Danny raised an eyebrow at Lydia in question.

She waved it away in her way of silently saying, ' _I'll tell you later_.' Patting Stiles' hand a little forcefully, she explained, "We're discussing his possible bisexuality and utter denial of the fact. Oh, and how everyone can smell the hormones between Derek and he."

"She's right on all accounts, you know?" Danny said even as he played the video he'd recorder for them.

"What? But you said I wasn't attractive to gay guys!" Stiles cried indignantly, "And anyway, Derek and I aren't attracted to each other!"

"Oh please, you two practically eye-fuck each other every time you're together. It's disgusting, but kind of a turn-on sometimes when I'm feeling frisky," Danny explained calmly, not looking to Stiles, "'sides, I said **I** wasn't attracted to you, not that others wouldn't be. You have the feminine, pixie qualities that guys like sometimes in a bottom. Aesthetically, you're pleasing to look at on occasion, just not my cup of tea."

Stiles laughed without humor. "We do not eye-fuck each other."

"Yeah, and neither did Isaac, Erica and Jackson that one time they got totally hammered," Lydia said sarcastically. Then seriously, "They looked really good that night. We should get them drunk more often."

"Guys, I'm not bisexual!" Stiles cried, throwing his hands into the air.

"Stiles, can you tell me with complete certainty that you are not gay, even a little gay?" Lydia asked, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

Stiles opened his mouth, but a second later he snapped it shut. Was he certain? He couldn't ignore the dreams that he had almost on a nightly. You could only have so many dreams about doing a friend until you have to admit that they're not caused by sexual frustration. His frown, though, was caused completely by frustration.

…..

"What are you three doing out here? Aren't you supposed to be in class?" Laura asked without actual concern, sitting side-saddle on her broom and floating above their heads. They were close to the cottage she occupied as Grounds Keeper, walking slowly through her garden. She had wolfsbane growing on the outer edge of the garden.

"Of course, but where's the fun in sitting through a class with your uncle?" Lydia asked brightly, smiling widely. Laura grimaced. "Exactly, plus, our conversation is much more interesting than intermediate transfiguration lessons."

"Oh, and what is this conversation you speak of?" Laura asked, raising an eyebrow in undisguised interest.

"Stiles' sexuality," Danny said simply.

"I am **not** bisexual, I keep telling you two this," Stiles grumbled.

"Oh," Laura cooed, propping her chin in her hands, "Bisexual for who? Please tell me my brother. After, you know…" she trailed off, locking eyes with Stiles, "he needs someone good in his life."

Stiles groaned. Lydia and Danny grinned.

"Stiles' patronus is a wolf," Lydia supplied as evidence and Danny held out his phone to show her the video from the corridor.

Laura whistled, grinning. "You've got it bad, my friend," she said, touching down to watch the video more closely. "Did you know my brother's patronus is also a wolf? You need to slit that bitch's throat and decorate the Great Hall in her blood." A growl rumbled deep in her chest.

"That's some animosity you've got there," Danny murmured.

"Okay," Stiles interrupted in utter annoyance before they could continue on that line of discussion, "Just because the shape of our patronuses match means nothing."

"When did it change?" Laura asked suddenly, glancing at him.

"What?"

"When did your patronus change shape?"

"Sometime… after Christmas vacation… third year," Stiles said haltingly, feeling his face light as he remembered how he'd stuck close to Derek and Scott for those two days they were snowed in. The way Laura's eyes were boring into his soul like she knew even secrets he didn't had him wanting to crawl under a rock and never reappear.

She pursed her lips in the way that said she was trying not to grin. "Interesting," she murmured through the purse, "You know, people's patronuses often take another form after they develop strong feelings for another, something that mirrors the other's patronus, or compliments it. Did you ever hear of the patronuses of James Potter, Lily Potter and Severus Snape?"

Stiles looked to his other two companions. Both shook their heads.

"I suppose not. It's not well known, but I learned of it from a distant… family friend, Teddy Lupin. It even happened with his parents. After Nymphadora Tonks fell in love with Remus Lupin, hers changed shape as well."

"Okay, but what about the Potters and Severus Snape?" Lydia asked, interest sparkling in her eyes.

"Well, Lily and James had patronuses that complimented each other. James' was a stag, Lily's a doe. They loved each other very dearly, but Snape, he was a different story. He'd been in love with Lily since they were children, but it was only returned as friendship. It was still deep love. His patronus mirrored Lily's, also a doe."

Stiles face was still flushed, his heart fluttering with how flustered he was. "I'm not in love with Derek Hale! It's just… not true!"

Laura smiled softly. "You don't get to choose who you fall in love with Stiles, just like you don't get to choose your genetic donors. Don't worry. We won't tell."

His eyes facing away from the gooey trio, trying to cull down the burning in his cheeks, he looked out over the grounds. Down the hill, near the forest's edge, blonde hair was splayed across the ground, unmoving.

"Is that…" he whispered, squinting at the hair. His eyes widened, and he was on the move before the others knew what was happening. "Erica!" he shouted, stumbling his way down the hill.

He crashed to his knees beside Erica, his breath coming hard. "Timer! Someone start a timer!" he shouted as he turned Erica onto her side, pillowing her head in his lap. A thin trail of spittle and puke slipped from the corner of her mouth to the leafy ground. "Did someone start a timer?" His eyes were wild as he jerked his head around towards the others, his pupils blown wide nearly eclipsing his irises.

"Started!" Lydia shouted, a set of blue numbers clicking quickly through the seconds as they stumbled towards him.

"What's happening to her?" Laura asked, sniffing the air subtly, "She's sick, but what's happening to her?"

Stiles had to remember that Laura was only two years older than them, still young and as inexperienced as they were. "She's having a seizure," he said, gently running his fingers through her hair to give his hands something to do. He didn't want to accidentally hurt her by restricting her movements.

"What do we do?" Laura asked, her voice becoming increasingly worried with each passing second.

"How long has it been?" Stiles asked.

"Two minutes and forty-three seconds," Danny said, glancing at the timer.

"Laura, if it reaches five minutes, get Melissa," Stiles instructed, but as the words left his mouth, Erica's trembling slowed to a stop. "Oh, thank god," he whispered, wiping the spittle and puke from her mouth with his sleeve. Rearranging her limbs, he settled her in a more comfortable position.

"What… what do we do now?" Laura asked, crouched beside Stiles, scenting the pair.

"Wait until she wakes up," Stiles said simply, soothingly smoothing back Erica's sweaty hair.

…..

Stiles lay beside Erica in the Slytherin common room listening to the tired, sleepy sounds of the student body as Melissa quietly shut off the projector running the credits of the last movie. Erica was pressed against his side, head pillowed on his shoulder, leeching magic and heat from him like some kind of succubus as Melissa had suggested. They would have been in one of their beds, but Stiles hadn't figured out how to get passed the charms to the dorms. Erica's soft breath tickled his neck, but his mind was miles away.

His patronus pranced around the room, galloped up the walls, across the ceiling, stuck her nose deep into his hand or armpit or against his neck. She repeated the same to Derek sleeping soundly on the floor beside Scott, Cora and Laura every few minutes. She yipped happily and let out quiet howls at the moon shining through the water and windows. At the moment though, she was curled up beneath his tented legs, pressed to Erica and shimmering gently. She huffed quietly.

His mind had split in two. Part of his brain was concentrated on the memory that brought her to life as if it was happening that very minute. He heard the music filling the courtyard beneath the dark sky and twinkling stars. He felt the press of bodies around him, of Scott's back against his and Derek's hands on him, Cora's breath on his neck. He heard Lydia's high, delighted laugh as he pushed her into the air, of Derek's low, dark chuckle as he pulled Stiles back against him. He saw fireworks he'd shot into the sky above the dancing student body. He felt his lips pressing to Derek's cheek, laughter bursting from them.

The other part of his mind was still back during the conversation hours ago. He thought of Lydia's and Laura's words, of the way Laura had looked at him like she knew everything. He wondered if there was any stock in his friends' words. Surely there wasn't. There couldn't be.

But how would he know, because if Lydia had been right, if he only loved her as a friend, he didn't really know what love felt like. How, then, was he supposed to know if he was in love? Simple, he wouldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, that was… really fun to write. I don't know, I just love the thought of patronuses and Danny and Lydia ganging up on Stiles and Laura being a big sister to everyone. I would love to hear your guys' thoughts on this so far!


	4. What is it about unicorns?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beach plans, unicorns of two kinds and Stiles gets hexed

"Let's go to the beach," Stiles said around the end of his quill as he frowned down at his essay. Something was wrong with it. He had this itching feeling that something was missing, but it was about unicorns. How much could he really write about unicorns?

Scott's head snapped up to him. Cora glanced over at him in interest. Derek ignored them, working steadily down his roll of parchment.

"What? No. Why? How would we even get to the beach?" Scott asked, still in a hazy daze from the essay he'd been making a valiant attempt to finish in one go.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at his best friend, pulling the mangled end of his quill from his mouth. "We only live fifteen miles from the beach."

"Yes, but that's back home."

"That's what I'm talking about."

"…I'm not following."

Stiles jammed his quill back into the ink well between him and Derek, spilling some over the side onto the corner of Derek's paper. He ignored the annoyed glare Derek shot him. "When we go home for the Christmas and summer break, we should camp out on the beach and have a bonfire. S'mores, bitches."

Scott shook his head. "Right, and who'd really want to go camping on the beach with us?"

"Me," Cora said, scratching out an answer so forcefully on her homework that she ripped through the parchment. She quietly cursed. "Also, what are s'mores? They sound good."

"Me," Lydia said as she slid in beside Stiles, "Sweetheart, they are the best thing you will ever have the pleasure to eat. They're roasted marshmallows and chocolate between two graham crackers. Trust me when I say that they are delicious. I would happily get fat off of them any day."

Danny laughed at Lydia, taking a seat beside Scott. "I'd like to go camping on the beach."

"Camping?" Laura interrupted with a large grin, "When? I want to come." Derek groaned loudly. She reached over his defensive arm to pluck his quill from his fingers. The writing tool nearly snapped in half.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" he snarled, narrowing his eyes at her. Suddenly, they seemed even more blue than usual.

Tilting her head to a quizzically pissed off angle, Laura glared him down, digging her fingers into his bicep. "Actually, I'm looking for a baby unicorn that wandered off. You haven't seen her, have you? I know she really likes virgin pups with big egos," she growled, somehow making her light words sound threatening. Derek winced, ducking his head. Cora, her eyes going wide, turned her gaze away in discomfort.

Stiles ignored the family spat, raising his eyebrows and grinning triumphantly at Scott. "A lot of people."

Scott sighed. "If we don't get grounded for our grades, sure, let's go camping." Stiles waved away his concerns. "Plus, it'll be cold as balls over Christmas."

Stiles laughed obnoxiously. "Cold? What's that? Anyway, we've got space heater one, two, and three with us." He spread his hand to the Hale siblings two of which smirked at him and the other of which glowered. He turned his eyes away, resisting the urge to snap out his wand that was burning a hole in his pocket, looking to throw a hex.

"Okay, but first, let's pass Defense Against the Dark Arts for this semester," Scott pleaded, looking at his essay. "What else am I supposed write? What else is there to write about unicorns?! Why do we have to write about unicorns in DADA? Why is Professor Gerard such an asshole? They're not harmful to us."

"It's because their blood can be used for multiple things, but killing a unicorn has major consequences," Stiles said absently as he twisted his paper from one side to the other. "I think there's something missing from my conclusion. Do you think Gerard would fail me if I ended my essay with 'I've found that being a unicorn myself, no one is majestic enough to ride me'?" He glanced up, watching as Scott flipped through his textbook, looking for something, **anything** , more that would help him. "Hey, Scott, we've still got like a week to finish this essay. Come on, guys, let's go do something that's not homework." Stiles quickly rolled his parchment and capped his quill and ink, stuffing everything into his bag.

Scott sighed in defeat, slowly cleaning up his mess of papers and books. "Like what?"

"Making amortentia and putting it in chocolates for Coach and Harris, maybe for all of the teachers if we successfully brew enough. And you know what else is happening today?" Stiles stood beside the table, waiting for all of them to stand.

"What?" Derek sighed, reluctantly sliding his scroll into his bag as Laura dragged him to his feet.

"The first Quidditch match of the year between Slytherin and Ravenclaw," Stiles said, grinning, "You two ready?" He looked to Lydia and Danny.

Lydia smiled a smile sharp enough to cut. "We should be asking you that question."

Grinning, Stiles turned and lead the group to a secret part of the dungeons he'd discovered with Scott at the beginning of the year. "Welcome to the nest of the snake. Let's get to work."

…..

"Jesus, is this what this potion is supposed to smell like?" Derek snarled, backing away from his cauldron. The three Hales had their hands pressed to their noses, glaring with watering eyes at the smoke rising from it.

Venturing over, Stiles sniffed at the smoke experimentally. He reeled back, rubbing at his nose. "Not even close. It's supposed to smell like things you're attracted to, and that smells like… burning flesh."

"Smells like wolf piss to me," Cora grumbled, pulling Stiles towards her and shoving her nose against his neck. "You smell a lot better. Kind of like butter scotch and..." Frowning, she pulled back and stared at Derek, but he didn't notice the look as he emptied the cauldron. Laura glanced between the pair before taking Cora by the arm and leading her away.

Stiles frowned. He sighed as he turned to the others. "Looks like Scott and I were the closest, but it's still not what it should be. That prank will just have to wait, I suppose." He watched as Lydia glared at her and Danny's foul smelling concoction before taking it to the sink followed by Scott. "Lydia, Danny, we should go get ready for the match. See you guys after the match."

Gathering their things, the group popped out into an empty classroom. Stiles, Lydia, and Danny took off at a sprint for the team locker rooms. The remainder, the Hales and Scott, started towards the Gryffindor common room to grab their cloaks and scarves before heading to the field.

"Scott?" Derek suddenly said, startling the trio chattering in front of him.

"Yeah?" Scott asked, falling into step beside him, looking at him curiously. "What is it?"

"Is Stiles pissed at me?" he asked, tuning his ears to his sisters as they bent their heads close.

" _What was that look you gave Derek earlier_?" Laura asked.

Cora glanced over her shoulder.

"What? No, why would you think that?" Scott asked, furrowing his brows.

Derek turned his eyes to the ceiling, biting his lip. Cora looked back to Laura, " _It was Stiles' smell_."

" _What do you mean? Like… he smelled so good you wanted to jump him_?" Laura sounded just this side of worried, though still not enough to joke.

" _He smelled like_ _ **pack**_ _, Laura. Not the kind of pack that the others smell like, but like pack back home_."

" _What?_!" Now Laura sounded startled.

" _And Derek's scent was all over him_!" Cora whispered frantically, " _I think Derek's been marking him_!"

" _Why would he do that_?" Laura paused. " _That was a stupid question_."

Cora shook her head. " _Maybe to ward off Peter, or those others we've smelt. Deucalion and his pack_?"

Laura worried at her bottom lip. " _That's not going to ward any of them off. It might make them want to try harder_."

"Derek?" Scott tentatively touched Derek's shoulder, bringing him back to their discussion.

Shaking his head, Derek looked at Scott. Laura and Cora were stupid, delusional. Why would he mark Stiles? What reason would he have? Stiles was his friend, not his mate. He'd sooner mark Kate than Stiles, though his scent never seemed to stick to her, even after a night spent in her bed.

Frowning, he tried to remember Scott's question. "Well, he doesn't look at me like he used to. Whenever he looks at me, he always looks a bit angry. And then Professor Kate and I got attacked by these two patronuses. Stiles and Lydia are the only ones I know who can cast patronuses. And Stiles has almost hexed me on four occasions now this week."

Scott grimaced. He couldn't tell Derek about Stiles', Lydia's and Danny's discussion, or that the patronuses had been Lydia's and Stiles', or that Scott had been the only reason Stiles hadn't hexed Kate and Derek over the week. Actually, he really couldn't tell Derek anything without violating the unwritten best friend code of ethics. "Stiles is… stressing over some things that he's pissed about right now. Just, uh, give him some time. It should clear up."

"Why do I feel like you're not telling me something?" Actually, he could hear it in the stutter of Scott's heartbeat, but he didn't need to know that. "Stiles hasn't almost hexed any of the others."

"Um…" Scott hummed awkwardly, not looking at his friend, "Would you believe me if I said that I'm not at liberty to tell you the whole truth because that would violate my best friend's trust?"

Derek sighed. It looked like he was going to have to find it out another way. "Yes. I won't ask you to do that. I'll just find out from someone else."

"What are you guys doing? Hurry up!" Cora shouted, springing from behind the painting leading to the Gryffindor common room, throwing their cloaks and scarves at them.

"Let's go! The game is about to start!" Laura shouted, sprinting down the hall after her younger sister, "Run or we won't make it!"

Flinging their cloaks around their shoulders, the two boys took off after the girls.

…..

"GO STILES!" Stiles heard Scott scream from the stadiums, his voice so loud over the rest of the crowd that he had to wonder if Scott was using an amplification charm. He circled back around as Danny retrieved the Quaffle again.

He grinned as he heard the unmistakable pierce of Derek's wolf-whistle split the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Braedon swinging her bat at a Bludger headed his way. Above the game, Lydia chased incessantly after the Snitch, Erica close on her tail. They were nearly evenly matched.

"Stilinski!" Jackson called, the Quaffle tucked under his arm. Two Ravenclaws flanked him, watching his every move.

Stiles tore after them. Before they knew what had happened, Stiles grabbed the Quaffle from Jackson's willing fingers and sped for the goal posts. Just as Danny was lunging for the Quaffle, batting it away from the goal, all of the air was sucked from Stiles' lungs.

Black liquid instantly encroached on his vision. Slipping slowly from his broom, he heard Danny cry his name. His voice was swallowed by the crowd's roar as the commentator screamed into her mike, "Slytherin has caught the Snitch! Slytherin wins!"

Before the haze could take over his mind, he could hear Derek in the stands yelling, "Stiles!"

…..

Stiles drifted in and out of consciousness. He could see the teams leaning over him, Lydia calling his name and pressing down on his sternum rhythmically, Melissa pushing everyone out of the way. Next, he could feel warmth seeping through his team uniform, the unintelligible yells of multiple persons, the strong, frantic beat of a familiar heart beneath his ear. He almost woke fully when his clothes are being pulled from him in an attempt to open his lungs and cool his burning body, but pain shot through his body like fire and he was left gasping before the darkness took him again.

When he finally came to, he was in one of the famously uncomfortable Hospital Wing beds, his breaths coming short and shallow. His lungs felt like they'd been scorched from the inside out, or like he'd just run a marathon at full speed without stopping once. As far as he could tell, he was naked beneath the thin, white sheets, but he can't find the embarrassment to blush, not with his body feeling as if it were stuffed into the world's smallest sauna.

Sleeping with his head pillowed on his arms, Derek breathed softly, easily at his bedside. He was still in the same clothes he'd been wearing during the match, his hair hopelessly rumpled. His large hand was wrapped securely around Stiles' pinky and ring finger, and for some strange reason, Stiles' heart broke in his chest.

He didn't know why, Derek had a family who loved him dearly, friends who'd do anything for him, and yet, seeing how young and innocent and peaceful he looked, Stiles' heart shattered. "Derek," he tried to say, but his voice wasn't even a whisper. Still, Derek stirred.

"Stiles?" he breathed as he blinked sleep from his eyes, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I nearly drowned in a lake of fire," Stiles replied in his barely there voice, "Where's Scott and Melissa?"

Derek yawned, rubbing at his eyes. "Scott would have been here, but everyone was told to go to bed around ten. I snuck back after the castle had gotten quiet."

Stiles nodded. He could believe that. He had one very pressing question that needed to be answered though. "Did everyone see me naked?"

"No," Derek said with a shake of his head. Stiles sighed in relief. "Melissa had Scott and me strip you when your fever spiked. Nothing will bring it down."

"What happened? I don't remember much." He tried to ignore how his body seemed to find more blood to syphon to his cheeks for a light blush at the thought of Derek seeing him naked. He could have cared less that Scott had seen him naked. After being on the receiving end of one of Lydia's strongest sticking charms that had lasted a little over two days, the boys had had to get to know each other a little too well for their tastes. Lydia still laughed about it on occasion.

Derek pushed a hand through his hair before dropping his face into his hands. "Hex, fire based, literally burned off all of the oxygen in your lungs. Madame McCall gave you something to start healing your lungs and cast a spell to help you breath for now, but she said it could take a few days for your lungs to be back to normal. She said the fever is because the hex is still trying to work."

"Yeah, I can feel that." Stiles tried to laugh, but it only sounded like a thin stream of air whispering from his throat.

They were silent for a few moments. Finally, as he encased Stiles' hand between his, Derek murmured, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For whatever I did to piss you off," Derek whispered, "You could have died today. You could have died, and I never would have apologized. Someone… they did this knowing you could have died. They didn't care." He sounded just the slightest bit undone.

Stiles sighed inwardly, ' _I guess it's not his fault that Kate is a sneaky bitch. I'd probably fall for her act too if I were in his place_ ,' he thought to himself. "But I didn't die," Stiles said, "I'm tough like my dad." Derek didn't move. Stiles sighed again. "Hey, that chair can't be too comfortable. You can share the bed with me. There's plenty of room." Without another word, Derek crawled beneath the sheets beside Stiles.

That's how Melissa found them the next morning, Derek curled around Stiles, discreetly leeching away his pain, nose pressed into Stiles' neck, and Stiles happily passed out, dead to the world.

…..

"Scott, seriously, I can walk on my own perfectly fine, you don't have to come into the dormitories with me. I'm not going to pass out on my way there. And I'm really not feeling up to hexing someone who puts a jelly-legs curse on you again," Stiles complained as loudly as possible as they made their way to the Slytherin dormitories. Stiles had been in the Hospital Wing for the past four days, but his throat and lungs were still a little raw, and his body felt completely drained.

"But Mom said I needed to make sure you got to your dorm and to hex anyone who looked suspicious," Scott argued stubbornly.

"Scott, you'd probably end up hexing yourself," Stiles tried, but Scott continued to stare resolutely ahead. He sighed. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

The pair stopped dead in their tracks when they pushed open the door to the dormitories. Curled in Stiles' bed, the wood creaking ominously beneath its weight was a baby unicorn. It turned its head towards them and whinnied. Before it could untangle itself from Stiles' bed, Stiles slammed the door and charmed it locked with the first spell that came to mind.

"There is… a unicorn… in my bed," Stiles said slowly, eyes wide as could be, staring at the door.

Scott was the first to react, clutching his sides and sinking to the floor as laughter spilled from his mouth.

"What the fuck did you do to the door, Stilinski?" Jackson spat, jerking at the handle, "Did you use a fusing charm on it?!"

Without answering, Stiles turned and sprinted from the Slytherin common room. When he finally made it into the Gryffindor dormitories, he flung himself on top of Derek, pinning him to the bed.

"Either this is some weird form of foreplay, which I'm kinda digging, or something happened again. I'm hoping for foreplay," Derek said calmly, looking up at Stiles with a raised eyebrow.

"There's a fucking unicorn in my bed!" Stiles screeched.

"There's a unicorn in your bed every night and its name starts with an S." Derek blinked at his unchanging expression. "Why don't you ask Scott for help?"

"He's laughing himself to death in front of the door to my dorm! I don't know what to do! And don't go making jokes about my virginity, asshole! I'm working on losing it, okay?" Stiles was still shouting. He hadn't reached all caps yet, but he was working himself up to that status. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"With the unicorn or your virginity?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow. Stiles remained silent, glaring down at him. He sighed and easily pushed Stiles off. "Show me." When they got there, Derek stood in the doorway watching the unicorn happily nuzzle Stiles' head. He was trying not to laugh or even smile. "You're telling me that you are such a virgin that a unicorn came to your **bed** to find you," he forced through his quivering lips.

"Do something!" Stiles shouted even as he pet the creature. Derek was already no help though, sinking down against the doorframe, a hand pressed over his mouth.

In the end, they had to fetch Laura to collect the baby unicorn who reluctantly left Stiles' side. "Come see her soon or she'll bring friends next time," Laura had advised, laughter in her voice.

"Is that a threat?" Stiles had asked.

Laura has grinned a sharp toothed smile. "Possibly, but just know that all she wanted to do was help you heal."

"Thanks for making me feel like a dick."

"All part of the job."

…..

Stiles had finally discovered what was missing from his essay. Minutes before turning it in, he unrolled it across his desk and added one line. ' _I have learned from recent experience, that unicorns are ridiculously attracted to virgin bisexuals, and will take over said bisexuals bed if not visited_.'

Gerard had returned his essay with full marks and a lengthy paragraph laughing at Stiles' new predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was fun. We'll find out who the pissbaby who did the whole lung burning thing to Stiles is in the next chapter. See you then, and I'd love to hear what you think of the story so far or just about the chapter in general!


	5. Prophecy Written in Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek threatens our resident arsonist and Stiles gives a prophecy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have much to say except for the fact that I didn't actually do research on Divination and prophecies and psychics from Harry Potter before I wrote this chapter or after, so I was just going off what I remembered. I hope there aren't too many discrepancies.

"Don't you ever touch Stiles again," Derek snarled in Kate's face, hovering over her with bared canines. They were both covered in a thin sheen of sweat, their chests heaving, muscles quavering.

Bruises are already appearing along Kate's hips, wrists and thighs. Derek had been uncharacteristically rough, animalistic almost. It was a welcome relief from his ridiculously soft fingers and careful touches, from his submissiveness. She liked angry, stupidly protective Derek a lot more. "I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't done anything to that disgrace of a Slytherin," Kate lied, mirth sparkling in her eyes as she reached up to pull him down to her.

Derek wrenched back, wrapping angry fingers around her wrists. "Don't lie to me!"

"I'm not. I haven't laid a finger on that mudblood. Why would I?" She was only serving to piss him off more.

"Don't call him that," Derek snarled, tightening his fingers, "He is better than all of the Slytherins over all of the years combined. Do **not** call him that."

Kate rolled her eyes, sneering. "Sounds like you have a little crush, Derek. Maybe **he** should be the one you're fucking." She yanked her wrists from him, sitting back against the headboard.

"Maybe I will," Derek growled quietly, glaring at her as she blinked back at him in surprise, "Don't touch him again or I will personally rip out your throat. Don't even look at him. I know that you were the one who hexed him during the match."

"How would you know that?" Kate said, her voice icy and quiet.

"Fire hexes are your specialty." That's all he was going to say. Pulling himself from the bed, he started jerking on his clothing, the seams protesting loudly at his unnecessary roughness.

Kate scrambled to her knees, staring after him as he gathered his things, dumbfounded. No one had ever left her before. She'd always been the one to leave. This could not be happening. "The hex wouldn't have killed him," she lied, too flustered to control her pulse. She'd actually been aiming to kill the nuisance, and it pissed her off that he'd survived. He hampered her efforts to make Derek trust her.

Derek glanced over his shoulder, standing straight after snatching up the strap off his bag. "He almost did die. If Lydia and Melissa hadn't gotten to him with their fast spellwork, he would have." His eyes were dark, the pulps large, closed off to her. He moved to the door.

She cursed silently. She'd lost his trust. Desperately, she tried again, "Derek, he doesn't love you, not like I do. If you leave, he won't give you what I give you."

Derek didn't look back as he pulled the door open. "On his worst day, he is better than you on your best."

…..

Stiles sighed loudly, staring up at the ceiling of the canopy above his bed, watching the blue birds he'd conjured flit across the wood. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to drift to sleep. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, like something was going wrong somewhere in the castle. Crawling to the end of his bed, he fished through his trunk before flopping backwards.

When the dormitory door opened, he thought nothing of it. It could have been a number of the other boys. All of the curtains had been closed when he'd wandered in, but that didn't mean they hadn't been out exploring the castles. Each one of them had been on their fair share of nightly excursions.

He let out a squeak of surprise when his curtain was pulled aside, pressing his book to his chest. Derek clambered into his bed, sliding the curtain closed behind him. Without saying a word, he curled into a ball against Stiles side and let his eyes slip shut.

"Hey, dude, what's wrong?" Stiles asked, not sure where to place his hands. They'd shared sleeping arrangements before, but most of those times had been in the spur of the moment; the couch after movie nights, the air mattress during the snow storm, Scott's bed that one night he'd managed to actually get Derek and Scott astonishingly drunk for no particular reason. This seemed to be on a more premeditated scale though if the just showered warmth rolling off of Derek had anything to say about it.

"I just want to sleep," Derek murmured, pressing his nose into the crook of Stiles' neck and shoulder. "I don't want to talk about it."

"We don't have to," Stiles said, closing his book and setting it on his nightstand before settling into a more comfortable position, one arm slung above his head and the other pushed between his body and Derek's. His eyes following the birds, he murmured, "But if you do, I'll be here to listen."

Derek nodded, inhaling deeply. As he released it, the tension coiled in his muscles faded.

Flicking his wand, the birds exploded into small, blue flowers that showered over them. Stiles sighed, and finally sleep washed over him, pulling him into its silent depths.

…..

"Stilinski, get your ass up!" Jackson shouted from the bathroom, toothpaste crowding his mouth. He marched from the bathroom still in his pajamas, tooth brush sticking out of the side of his mouth. "Get up! If Hale finds out you cut again, he's going to give you detention all next semester, and then Captain is going to burst a vein and hang **us** from the goal posts!" He jerked the curtains back revealing Derek with his limbs wrapped around Stiles. "Oh, for fuck's sake!"

"What is it this time? Did you find a vibrator?" Aiden shouted, bouncing over, excitement in his voice. He wanted blackmail on the boy badly, just to have it, but since Stiles was a master at research, he'd so far been able to counter any blackmail material against him with much stronger blackmail of his own.

"No! Stilinski, can't you find somewhere else to screw your boyfriend?" Jackson shouted, storming back towards the bathroom.

Stiles, still sleepy and warm, wiping drool from the corner of his mouth, called, "I don't see why it matters if we don't wake you up."

"Because you're in the same room as five other sleeping guys! Go find a corner of the castle like every other couple!" Jackson emerged from the bathroom, face and mouth clean. He pointed his toothbrush at the boys. "It's disgusting and vulgar."

"No, that's your mouth," Stiles spat back, snarky. Sitting up slowly, he shook Derek awake. "Anyways, we're not actually doing anything. We are literally just sleeping." Derek, bleary-eyed but alert, shuffled from the room, headed for the Gryffindor dormitories. It was a normal routine now. If Derek wasn't sleeping in Stiles' bed since that first night, then Stiles was in Derek's. On those rare occasions that they slept separately, Stiles just stayed up watching movies or reading.

"You've got to be lying," Aiden piped up with a roll of his eyes, "He sleeps in your bed more than his own, and you're telling me you guys haven't screwed yet?"

Stiles shrugged. "We're friends, not fuck buddies. Do you want us doing it in the bed next to you?"

"No, but seriously, even I would have tapped that by now, and I'm straight as they come," Jackson said, straightening his tie in the mirror he kept above his nightstand.

Matt laughed derisively. "Do you realize how full of shit you are? Are we going to have to bring up you eye-fucking that Hufflepuff, Lahey, again?"

"No," Jackson said quickly, turning threateningly on Matt who backed down with raised hands and laughter on his tongue. He turned back to Stiles. "Danny would be ashamed of you."

Stiles waved the comment away. "Danny is always ashamed of me for something. Anyways, you guys are forgetting that to have sexy times, the other person also has to want to have sexy time with you." He sprang from his bed, quickly pulling on his uniform.

The three boys stared at him with looks that said they were utterly finished with his shit. " **Derek fucking Hale** willingly crawls into your bed on a nightly basis. I think that speaks for itself," Jackson said with a hard roll of his eyes.

"Whatever. You guys are delusional," Stiles said, grabbing his bag and hurrying from the room, "See you in Charms."

…..

"Hey, guys," Stiles greeted breathlessly as he slid into the seat across from Derek at the small round table in the Divination Tower just as the bell rang to signal the end of the passing period. He'd had to sprint up the flights of stairs to get there in time. He was hot and sticky and not at all pleased.

Lydia pursed her red lips at him. "Why were you almost late?" she asked with a quirk to her eyebrow.

"Someone charmed my bag so that it would try to tear off my hand whenever I opened it," Stiles explained, glaring at the offending object, "Peter had to help me with it. I swear to god he sniffed me every two seconds and kept smirking. You'd know all of this if you had actually been in class today, Lydia."

"Don't sass me. I'm not the one a teacher is looking to pin against a table," she shot back. "Derek, why does your uncle have to be so creepy?"

Derek glanced over at them. "That's just Peter. He likes to get in other people's business and mess with stuff. Chances are he doesn't actually **want** to screw you senseless, but more he wants to fuck with your relationship to someone…" He trailed off, his eyes narrowing at the table.

Before any of them could say another word on the subject, Professor Victoria Argent strode into the room in all of her red-headed glory. She dropped a book onto her cloth covered table at the front of the classroom, making the crystal ball in the center jump in its holder. "Today, you'll be attempting divination with a crystal ball, and next semester, after the break, we'll get more into the use of the crystal balls."

"Professor, you're introducing something completely new on the last day of term?" someone at the back of the class asked.

"Yes, Greenberg, do you have a problem with that?" Victoria asked, her eyes cold and far from amused.

"No ma'am," he squeaked.

"I have a question, Professor," someone else piped up. Stiles would have turned around to see who it was, but he was staring intently into the thick smoke swirling through the crystal of his, Derek's and Lydia's ball.

Victoria raised her brow in a small semblance of surprise. "Boyd, yes, what is it? Please tell me it's not another stupid question."

' _Oh. It's Boyd_.' Stiles blinked slowly, lifting his head to crane his neck around.

"I was just wondering, why did you pick Divination to teach when you don't have the second sight yourself?" Boyd asked, sitting beside Isaac and Erica. They looked to him curiously.

Victoria nodded, walking around her small table before starting a slow pace up and down before the students. "When I was a child, Divination was simply an interesting topic. I was never interested in actually telling the future, whether for myself or others. I was interesting in the mechanics of it. How were those men and women who told the future able to derive meaning from cards, tea leaves, sticks, the stars, even simple crystal orbs? Even though I fail at most attempts of telling the future myself, I have found a number of students who excel. It's simply an interest of how it's done, and I still haven't completely found my answer yet. So I teach the mechanics, and hope that someone will one day have that answer. Does that answer your question?" She locked her eyes on Boyd.

"Yes, Professor, thank you."

"Now, let's get started for today. You will be determining how the crystal ball is supposed to be used, and see if you can't… use it yourself. After thirty minutes, you'll all be free to go, but each group must provide a small paragraph on how you believe it works. Flip to page 641, read the short passage on their history, and start brainstorming. Begin." Victoria twirled her wand, a timer appearing beside her counting down from thirty.

Lydia rolled her eyes, flipping her book open as Derek did the same. "I hate crystal balls, I prefer tarot cards," she said, pursing her lips as she scanned quickly over the passage, "I'll get started on the paragraph. Do you two care if I go for the scientific approach?"

"Fine by me," Derek muttered, still reading.

"Stiles?" Lydia asked, looking for his go-head. When he didn't reply, she glanced over at him. "Stiles?"

Stiles was staring into the crystal ball, his eyes clouded and unfocussed.

"Stiles, what are you looking at?" she asked, peering through it to Derek's frown on the other side. He was staring at Stiles, worry written plain on his face. "Hey, Stiles." Lydia reached out a cautious hand.

Stiles eyes flew wide, scrambling away from the table, and suddenly, he was screaming.

"Stiles!" Lydia and Derek shouted, jumping to their feet beside him.

…..

_Stiles was burning. His flesh slowly seared from his bones, his hair turning slowly to ash on his head. It felt as if his blood was boiling in his veins, his lungs cooking from the heat and smoke he was breathing in. His ears were ringing with the screams of those around him, women and children and men._

_He coughed, scrambling towards a window. He slammed his shoulder against the bars, but they remained stationary, not budging an inch. He reached his arm through futilely, scratching at dirt and grass._

" _Dad!" The voice that rose from his throat was not his own. "Dad, where are you?"_

_He stared through bars, up at the moon hanging high in the sky. A woman, her hair brushing her breasts, laughed wildly outside, her features lit by the light of the fire. Her hair was a dirty blonde, her eyes a dark brown. A silver pendant gleamed against her sternum. Two men stood behind her, talking and laughing loudly, but he couldn't make out any of their features._

" _Dad!" Stiles shouted again, yanking his shirt over his mouth and nose, coughing and sobbing into the fabric. He could barely see, but he could feel his Alpha searching frantically for a way out, trying to save her pack. He could feel her dying._

" _I'm here! I'm right here!" Peter shouted, running towards him. He was already too late. The ceiling gave one ominous creak, and was caving in above him._

" _Dad!" Stiles forced out before the pain engulfed everything._

…..

"Stiles!" a voice, familiar and grounding, yelled in his ear. He was being shaken carefully, the entire class staring at them.

Crouched at his side, Lydia nearly screamed, "What was that, Professor?" staring up at Victoria.

Stiles was covered in sweat. His hair was soaked, his clothes damp. His eyes were darting around, unable to focus. All he could see was the brightness, the flickering of flames. Smoke crowded his nose and mouth. The screams of those people, trapped beneath their own home, rang through his head. Pain crawled across his skin. "Dad!" Stiles whispered, his voice harsh from the smoke clouding his lungs, "Dad!" He struggled against the hands holding him.

"Stiles! Stiles, calm down!" That was Derek, his breath warm against Stiles' already burning neck, his voice soothing. He held Stiles close to him, against his chest, holding him still as he struggled.

"They killed my dad! Th-they killed my family!" Stiles said wildly, eyes finding Derek's behind him.

"Stiles, what are you talking about? No one has touched your dad. He's safe in the muggle world," Derek said, staring back at him.

The confusion was starting to settle in. "My… my dad and… they were… who were those people? That man wasn't my dad. I don't know those people."

Derek's eyebrows furrowed together. "Stiles, what did you see?"

"I… I don't know. People were burning. These three people had trapped them and set a fire. And that man, I thought he was my dad, he was burning too. And then I died…" He groaned, dropping his pounding head between his hands, clenching his eyes closed tightly. The fire still danced on his retinas. "I don't know. Why would someone set a family on fire?"

"I don't know," Derek told him.

Lydia was still staring at Victoria, her hand clutching at Stiles' knee. Whether it was to reassure her or him, she didn't really know. "Professor Argent, what was that?" she hissed.

"That, Ms. Martin, was a prophecy. Looks like Mr. Stilinski is a Seer," Victoria explained, her eyes scanning over him, "You should take him back to the dorms. He'll need to rest. The first is always the worst."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't remember what they consider psychics in Harry Potter or what exactly constituted Divination and such, so I just called it second sight/being a Seer just because. Hope you didn't hate it. Comments are always welcome!


	6. Cooling Ocean and Burning Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camping on the beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for it being late. So, I've been watching a lot of House lately, and I think his personality somehow… leaked into Stiles' personality. I'm sorry and then again, somehow, not so much.

"You did **what**?" Scott cried, eyes going wide as he spun towards Stiles in the passenger seat of Laura's suburban. "That's wicked."

"Except for the fact that I've felt like I'm in a goddamn claustrophobic sauna since then, yeah, I guess it was pretty cool," Stiles groaned, stripping out of his jacket to the t-shirt below. If there weren't so many females in the car, he'd be stripping down to his boxers. Sadly, he wasn't so lucky. At least half of the occupants had a person in their lap with a third of the passengers being of the female persuasion.

He just might take all of his clothes off anyway.

Derek shook his head, hooking his hand over the back of Scott's seat so he wouldn't have to shout over the radio. "It really isn't. He was screaming the entire time like someone was ripping out his spinal cord through his mouth. And the prophecy made no sense. It was useless."

"Zero, absolutely zero sense," Lydia complained sleepily from the back, staring out the window with dozing eyes, "Stupid to go through that for nothing."

"Okay, can we please change the subject!" Stiles called out, leaning his head back against the seat to fan his flushed throat. "Laura, can you open another window?"

"They're all open already, Stiles, sorry," she called back apologetically, sighing forlornly. She shoved her hand out the window, letting the wind whip it this way and that.

Stiles nearly cried. He felt like he was melting. He yelped when a frozen bottle was pressed to his exposed neck. Glancing, he said cautiously as he took the bottle, "Thanks, Danny."

"You're welcome, I just need that bottle back when you're done. It should help though," Danny said with a shrug.

Derek's eyes were focused on how their fingers brushed, how Stiles grinned brightly despite the fever, how their heartbeats sped up just a little bit. Laura wondered if she swerved the car, would Derek's head slam into the window, shoving some sense into his head, without hurting any of the others. He was such an oblivious idiot. Sometimes, it hurt to watch him bumble around Stiles like a clumsy toddler.

"So, did you guys all pass your midterms this semester?" Laura called back, grinning as each and every one of them, save for Lydia and only partly Stiles and Danny, groaned loudly.

"Don't change the subject to that," Cora complained noisily, glaring at her sister in the rearview mirror. Laura slowly grinned wider. "You're a terrible person. How are we even related?"

"Oh, I can think of a few ways," Derek muttered, glaring out the window at the woods, very fixedly ignoring Danny and Stiles who were striking up a conversation about the latest gaming software they'd both downloaded. Or something. He was trying not to pay attention, but Stiles' voice kept punching through his wall of indifference making it almost impossible.

Cora smirked, leaning over the back of his seat from where she was perched on Aiden's lap to get in her brother's face. "Aw, lover boy, missing your girlfriend already?" she cooed derisively.

Stiles fell silent, muttering an apology to Danny as he turned his face towards an open window, his poker face easily slipped over his own like a mask. The others didn't seem to notice except for Laura who glanced back to glare pointedly at her little sister.

"She's not my girlfriend," Derek spat at her, eyes flashing that unnatural shade of blue that they did when he was pissed.

"Oh, then what is she?"

"Cora," Laura growled warningly, but Derek cut her off before she could say anymore.

"She's not my girlfriend. I broke up with her," he snarled.

Cora blinked, sitting back against Aiden's chest in surprise. Laura tightened her fingers on the wheel before reaching to turn the stereo up higher. She was reconsidering swerving again, this time for Cora's thick skull. When Cora leaned forward again, she whispered urgently in Derek's ear, too quiet for the others to hear.

Frowning deeper, but not more aggressively, he shook his head.

After a moment of silence, even from the radio, Stiles leaned forward to Scott. "Hey, buddy, can we trade places? It's hotter than Satan's scrotum back here."

"Lovely description, I didn't want to know you had that much detail about Professor Peter," Scott laughed, pushing Isaac up, "Sure, come on, Isaac." There was a brief scuffle, several loud curses from both Ethan and Danny, Laura nearly swerved off the road and her siblings' heads finally smashed roughly against their windows before everyone settled into their new seats.

Stiles huffed like he was suffering from a fever dream, sweat beading across his forehead. "I can't wait to get in the water," he breathed, letting his hand drop between the seat and door. No one realized when Derek hooked their fingers together.

…..

"Ocean!" Stiles screeched as soon as Laura brought the car to a stop. It took him several tries before he could get out of the car, the first because his seatbelt jerked him back harshly against his seat. After scrambling to unbuckle, he slammed his stomach into the edge of the partly rolled down window. Laughing, Laura rolled it down the rest of the way. He fell out, stripping out of his clothes as he bolted for the water front.

Cora tore after him, grinning delightedly. Rolling their eyes, Lydia and Derek followed after them at a saner pace. Jackson glowered at Lydia's back, but didn't follow. Pushing Isaac out in front of him, Scott raced towards the water. Erica, grinning even as she coughed into a tissue, loped slowly after them, Boyd at her side. Smirking back at the last three, the twins tore past all of them, splashing into the water just behind Stiles who was tramping around in Spiderman boxers.

"Thanks, guys! I guess these two fine gentlemen and myself will just unload the car on our own!" Laura shouted sarcastically. She wasn't sure how many words got through to the others as they started to screech, hitting the water one by one.

"It's fucking freezing! How are you swimming like it's not?!" Scott cried, backpedaling towards the beach, but he fell over Isaac, sending them both crashing face first into knee-deep water. They came up screaming and laughing, teeth chattering.

Aiden, already soaked after Ethan shoved him beneath the water, sprang out in front of Lydia who had so far stayed a good distance away from the water with Derek. Running up, he plucked her screaming off the sand and took off into the water again.

"Aiden, you bag of dicks!" she shouted as she was plunged into the icy sea. Cackling, he swam away as she came up, teeth chattering. "It's cold as Professor Morrell's heart!"

"Oh, come on, it's not that cold," Stiles laughed, grinning from ear to ear. Rubbing his hands up and down her arms vigorously, he attempted to rub warmth back into her.

Sliding her arms around his waist, she grumbled, "Jesus, why are you so warm? It's like you're burning from the inside out."

Stiles shrugged, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "Maybe it's because of the prophecy. I did burn to death in it. Or maybe it still has to do with that fire hex that was supposed to cook my lungs. They could have been fed to Hannibal after that."

"That was at the beginning of the year. I don't think it had any to do with this," she mumbled, shuffling even closer.

Pursing his lips, he muttered, "Oh, I think all three are more closely related than we think. It can't be a coincidence that three heat based incidents are all separate events. Once for an accident. Twice is a coincidence. Three times is a pattern."

"Okay, slow down there detective. I think your fever is making you hallucinate," Lydia said, pulling away.

"Never!" Stiles gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. Immediately, he was tackled into the water, leaving Lydia wide-eyed and soaked even more than she'd been before.

A frown etching her mouth, Lydia turned and stalked towards the beach. "I'm going to start a fire," she grumbled, water falling from her in torrents, "I hope you all know that I hate you."

"No, you don't!" Stiles shouted even as Derek dragged him back to the watery depths.

"Surprise attack!" Scott cried, throwing himself at the pair and sending a wave of water over the heads of the others standing close by.

"SCOTT!"

As their cry went up, Lydia snatched up Stiles clothes and went to change into them in the back of the suburban. She didn't feel like pulling out her own clothes. "Idiots, every one of you. You're all going to get sick, and I'm not going to be the one help you," she muttered, slamming the door shut.

…..

"Can I talk to you?" Danny asked, peaking into Stiles' and Scott's tent curiously, "Alone?" He glanced to Scott then quickly back to Stiles.

"Sure! I'm gonna go see if dinner is done yet," Scott said, tumbling from the tent and moving towards the fire blazing close to the water.

Laura was there, grinning at Cora while Isaac flipped chicken. Jackson was murmuring to Lydia a little ways away. Aiden and Ethan were searching for anything poisonous. Erica and Boyd were playing chicken with the waves.

Zipping up the tent flap, Danny dropped down onto Scott's sleeping bag. He watched Stiles flip out his sleeping bag before slipping Stiles' wand from his back pocket. He twirled it around his fingers, watching Stiles. "Why don't you ever touch your wand unless you're casting or threatening to hex someone? Do you realize how terrifying it is to have a sparking wand in your face?"

"You've never been subject to my sparking wand," Stiles pointed out, raising a curious eyebrow, "Your best friend on the other hand… well, he's been on the receiving end of it more weekends than there are in the school year."

Danny frowned. "I'm not sure if that's a lot or not," he said with a quiet laugh.

Stiles shrugged grinning widely as he took his wand back from Danny. It lit up with colored sparks and different colored flames. "That's why I don't unnecessarily touch my wand. It even burns through my clothes when I get flustered and I'm not touching it. It used to happen with my mother and her wand. Maybe it has to do with my ADD or… I don't know, maybe my brain is just weird." He fidgeted, twirling his wand through the air producing a thin stream of small butterflies that didn't seem to be blue or green or brown, but more of a mixture. "It's just that… even though it's been over five years, even though I'm fourteen, I still have magical outbursts and I still get panic attacks sometimes. I don't know, I just kind of want to be normal."

"You wouldn't be you if you were normal," Danny told him with a gentle smile, batting at the butterflies flitting around his head playfully.

"Thanks."

"So, I had a question to ask you." Danny's eyes stayed focused on the butterflies.

They waited until Lydia stopped screaming in what sounded to be Jackson's face before speaking. "Sure, what do you need?"

Biting his lip for a moment, Danny glanced back to Stiles. "Are you dating Derek Hale?"

' _Jesus Christ! Scott, are you alright? Derek, what the_ _ **fuck**_ _?!_ ' Laura screamed, but Stiles had begun choking on his own air.

His eyes were wide as could be as he choked out, "What?! No, why would you think that?"

Focused on the shadows running back and forth across the tent wall, Danny muttered, "Because you've been sleeping together since a little while after you got hexed at the beginning of the year."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up. All we're doing is literally sleeping. Why does everyone think we're having sex?"

Danny blinked slowly at him. "I don't know, because you guys seem just about ready to fuck each other every time you're even in the same hallway, like you have a hormone radar for each other. It's ridiculous."

"We're not having sex," Stiles laughed.

"I'm disappointed in you."

He shrugged. "I told Jackson you would be. I should have bet on it."

Rolling his eyes, Danny's next words nearly made Stiles choke again. "So, you're saying you're free to date? Do you want to date me? Maybe we could coax Mr. Sexy Brows into a threesome."

"I'm not sure if you're joking or not, and if you are, that's really cruel, I hope you know that."

"And what if I'm not?" Danny questioned.

Stiles eyebrows jumped high. "Th-then I-I'd have to say, uh, s-s-sure, um, totally. It would be… amazing to date you. But… why me? Why not… Ethan or someone? You said I wasn't your type."

"Types change. Do I have to have a reason?" Danny asked, shrugging.

"No, I guess not," Stiles muttered, grinning. They laughed as the butterflied used him as a landing post.

…..

"S'mores," Stiles and Scott cooed together, backs pressed against each other, legs flung over Danny and Isaac's laps. They were shoved off, but immediately replaced.

"This has to be the best thing I've ever eaten in my life," Cora mumbled around her mouthful, licking at her fingers.

"Told you," Stiles crowed, reaching to roast another marshmallow on the end of his stick. "I could live off of these."

"Don't steal what I said," Lydia reprimanded.

At her side, Laura began giggling like a school girl getting her first kiss from her crush. Her marshmallow had caught on fire. She brought it close to her nose, grinning widely. "You need to try this, Derek, they're awesome!" she said, slamming her shoulder into his. He was staring unblinkingly into the flames, and shook his head slowly. "Kill joy," she pouted. Then she set her marshmallow on fire again and was right back where she started.

Frowning, Stiles sandwiched his marshmallow and stood. "Why are you being such a sourwolf?" Stiles griped, falling down onto the log on Derek's empty side, startling him. "Eat this delicious, hand crafted dessert made just for you out of the goodness of my heart. It'll make you feel better~" he coaxed.

"Or it'll make me hex you," Derek grumbled, but still took the s'more and bit into it. He stopped for a moment, resisting the urge to hum, but he couldn't stop the thought ' _Would Stiles taste this sweet_?' from shoving all the others off a metaphorical cliff and watching them scream. He groaned inwardly. ' _Great, not I'm thinking of Stiles in my bed-_ ' He cut that thought's legs off while it was running.

Stiles flashed his teeth. "I'm going to take that to mean it's good! Eat more! Talk, sing, dance! Stop being a sourwolf, or I'll be forced to teach you how to tango, you clumsy, clumsy teen!" Jumping to his feet, he danced towards Scott. They laughed as he fell into his lap.

"Did someone slip tequila into your juice this morning, dumbass?" Jackson snapped, though the affect was minimized by the chocolate at the corner of his mouth, and Lydia shooting her sandaled foot into his shin.

Stiles slid back to the log and into Danny's side. "Did someone slip a broomstick up your ass this morning? Oh, sorry, that would have burned without lube, and we all know you don't like pain. Whose dick did you sit on this morning then? Not Aiden's, I hope. I hear he's as straight as an elevator shaft."

Snorting, Ethan and Erica burst into loud, unending laughter. Lydia, Cora and Laura giggled. Boyd and Isaac repressed grins. Scott and Derek simply stared at each other for several confused minutes before realizing what must have happened, but Scott was somewhat distracted by the look of lust in Derek's eyes as he turned them to Stiles.

"I'm not fucking Aiden," Jackson snarled, avoiding Aiden's eyes.

"The blush on your cheeks makes me think otherwise, Snow White," Stiles quipped, throwing his legs back over Danny's lap, "Is it Matt? Or maybe Braedon has a thing for strap-ons?"

Jackson rolled his eyes. "No one is sticking anything up my ass. I'm not you."

Stiles gasped in mock pain. "Was that a stab at me? Well, I can assure you, the only one being stabbed in this group is you. Oh, and maybe Laura because she likes to dress like a tramp on Saturdays and lure in all the lovely, unsuspecting, strap-on wielding lesbians. She's very successful at it. Could make a business for all those wanting lesbians and bisexual boys and girls at school."

Laura chucked a marshmallow at him, but laughed.

"So… you're saying you partake in Professor Laura's activities," Jackson said slowly.

"No, that would be illicit. I only do things I know I won't get in trouble for. Like this." On a whim, he turned to Danny, catching the other teen's lips. It turned dirty fast, and when they pulled apart, everyone was staring at them and Danny was dumbstruck. "Like that. See the difference?"

Standing and trying not to smirk too hard, Danny said, "You and I need to have a private talk." Leading him away, they disappeared into the moonless night.

"I'm thinking I shouldn't have slipped that firewhiskey into everyone's soda at dinner," Laura mumbled to herself, her pupils dilating and restricting as she stared into the darkness, like the lens of a camera attempting to focus.

"Whelp, that relationship moved quickly. Has Danny always wanted to fuck skinny little nobodies?" Jackson asked the group derisively.

"Who votes that Stiles is burning his V-card tonight?" Aiden asked over Jackson, smirking before going to find a soda.

Cora, Laura and Lydia's eyes flickered to Derek, but returned to their gooey desserts quickly, taking no pleasure in the teen's gloom. No one noticed when he got up and disappeared into the darkness.

…..

_Stiles disentangled himself from Danny's limbs, rubbing at his eyes with a yawn. Scott had found room in Isaac and Boyd's tent early that night, so his side of the tent was empty and cold. Standing, he pulled on a shirt and Danny's sweatpants, moving out into the cold night. He could still feel the slight burn of fever, but it wasn't quite as bad as before._

_Running his hands up and down his arms, he stepped onto the sand with bare feet. They'd set up camp right up against the forest's edge, but far enough on the beach that it was just sand. Sighing, he ran his hands up into his hair and started towards the water. He let it gently lap at his toes, let the cool breeze push against him off the ocean._

" _Why do I feel like I made a huge mistake?" he mumbled to himself, "I'm so stupid and I don't even know why."_

_A howl, long and mournful and terrified, split through the darkness, far into the woods, but not far enough to be harmless. Stiles spun around, eyes wide. "What was-" he started, but all he could see was the burning treetops turning the sky orange._

_The tents were gone, flames spitting out of the tree line. Heat pressed in on his front, suffocating him. More howls arose, but Stiles only saw one wolf. He was pure black and his eyes shone like the clear blue sea even as he was consumed by flames._

…..

When Stiles woke, he woke screaming, his throat tight shut, his chest burning, his limbs tangled in his blankets. Danny was gone. When the tent flap was ripped open, Derek was standing in the sunlight, and climbing through to calm him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like a lot happened in this chapter and then again nothing at all. Certainly nothing that will concern the bigger problems later on, but might be a sooner problem. Hope to see y'all next chapter, and if you have the time, I'd love to hear what y'all think so far! Reviews and comments keep me writing!


	7. Toxic Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot of fighting in this one, and even more cursing. I tried not to be offensive with the name calling and such. If I do offend any of you, I'm just gonna say sorry now.

"Hello, Mr. Stilinski, how was your Christmas Vacation?" Deaton asked from behind Stiles where he was walking down a surprisingly empty hallway. A hallway that lead to a passageway to Honeydukes' Cellar. "It's not like you to not be cautious and quiet sneaking out."

Settling slowly down from his near heart attack, Stiles looked around at the Headmaster. Dark smudges marred the skin beneath his eyes and they were rimmed red. He was paler than usual, but a flush colored his sweaty neck. "That was a really stalkerish way to approach someone, Headmaster."

"And that is a suspiciously large bag you're handling. Not planning on sneaking out to procure fixings for tonight's movie night, I hope," Deaton said, walking slowly beside Stiles, "How was your vacation? Seems the classes and homework are already getting to you, I suppose. It's only been a week though, and I know you are able to handle far more."

"I kind of had a stressful vacation," Stiles confessed, running a shaky hand over the back of his neck, "I haven't slept since the first day of vacation. Not really. Night terrors and cold sweats, panic attacks and fevers. It's been… eventful, I guess you could say." He stumbled, pressing a hand into the cool stone wall. He leaned into it, huffing out a heavy breath.

"Maybe you should go see Madame McCall," Deaton suggested, reaching out a helping hand to steady his student.

Stiles shook his head. "No, she's been worrying over me over the entire vacation, and I'm sure she's already got enough to deal with. I'll be fine. I just want everything to go back to normal. I'll see you, Headmaster."

"If you would, could you bring back pumpkin pasties and, if you can swing it and get your hands on some, I'd love some of that new Spiced Blood Wine. I hear there's some stored in the Hog's Head. Just remember to leave the Dunbars with reimbursement and I'll make find a way to keep Professor Peter Hale and Professor Victoria Argent off your back." Deaton turned slowly, heading back the way they'd come. "See you tonight, Stiles. And please be careful. Not everything that roams these halls is kind or sane. When you get back, be sure to see Madame McCall."

Blinking back at him, exhaustion hovered over his eyes. He could barely see straight. "Alright, Headmaster," he mumbled, "See you tonight." He blinked, and suddenly Deaton was gone. "Crazy old man," he muttered without malice, turning to the passageway.

…..

Danny frowned as he slid in next to Stiles at breakfast. Stiles had his head pressed to the table top, his fingers curled into a loose fist. Leaning over him, Danny murmured worriedly, "You don't look too good. I thought you slept last night after we finished."

Stiles rolled his head from side to side. "No, I dozed off, but my fever came back. I had to go sit in the common room to cool down. I haven't slept since Friday."

"Since you drank yourself to sleep, you mean," Danny corrected with a sigh, "And then woke up a few hours later trying to scream." He couldn't understand what had happened. Ever since he and Stiles had started dating, Stiles stopped sleeping. He didn't think it was because Stiles was distressed by their relationship. When he hit the highs of his day, he seemed genuinely happy to be dating Danny. And he responded in gusto when they shared a bed, so it had to be something else.

When Derek dropped heavily into the seat beside Scott, he thought he knew exactly why.

"Whoa, dude, you almost look as bad as Stiles. Are you two having a competition on who can last longer without sleep because if you are, I want no part of it," Scott babbled, looking over Derek's face curiously, "I can't believe you're letting Stiles beat you, though. You guys are hardcore."

Like Stiles, Derek was pale with red rimmed, bloodshot eyes and deep bags beneath them. His lips were chapped, but his hands didn't shake like Stiles' did. That told Danny that Derek had at least twenty-four more hours of sleep than Stiles had gotten since day one of vacation. Whatever was eating them was the same thing as far as he could tell. Stiles had just won the jackpot of being woken from sleep every few hours by his subconscious.

"Yeah, thanks for the observation," Derek growled ridiculously aggressively, squeezing his eyes shut and tightening his fingers in his t-shirt, crumpling the starched fabric.

Painted nails in a dangerous shade of crimson grazed the back of Derek's neck, and he curled farther in on himself. "Hey, sweetie, how was your vacation? I can tell it wasn't… enlightening or **relaxing** ," Kate murmured, smirking close to Derek's ear.

Lifting his eyes, Stiles glared at the woman. She didn't seem to notice when he grabbed his wand from his back pocket, setting Cora's Transfiguration homework alight. Pointing his wand, he whispered, " _Expecto patronum_."

The patronus slammed into Kate's chest, sending her flailing backward, distracting Cora from her burnt homework and the growl rumbling deep in her chest. The wolf barked viciously, snarling at Kate as she stood, drawing the attention of the Great Hall, especially the teachers. Glaring angrily at Stiles, she turned on a heel, marching towards the front of the Great Hall.

The wolf crawled beneath the table, resting her chin on Derek's knee and thumping her tail against Stiles' calf.

His hand falling back to the table, Stiles gasped. "Damn manipulative, soul sucking, dementor, cut throat bitch," he snarled, not resisting when Danny pried his wand from his fingers, "Derek, you need to stay away from her or she's going to harvest your sperm, use it for a ritual, and then gut you, skin you, and wear you as a jacket."

"So do you," Derek whispered, exhaustion pouring from his every pore.

"I need to do what?" Stiles gasped. He was squinting, leaning heavily into Danny, gasping. His patronus was slowly fading, whimpering quietly as she did. He could barely focus. The light was getting ridiculously bright.

"Stay away from Kate." Derek closed his eyes again, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples. "I'm going to pass out."

"Why would I ever go near her?"

"It might be involuntary, and if it is, turn and run the other way as quickly as possible."

Stiles narrowed his eyes angrily. "Oh, thanks, I can take care of myself perfectly fine, no thanks to you, **friend.** "

"Stiles, please, just listen. I know you're angry with me, but this is important," Derek groaned, cracking his eyes open just enough to see him.

"Well, I don't need your help to stay safe. I think you're the one who needs help, thank you."

"She hexed you," Derek hissed, leaning over the table towards Stiles, "You need to be careful."

All conversation around the pair died, creating a pocket of silence in the noisy Great Hall. "What do you mean?" Stiles whispered, eyes wide with shock and growing anger, "You knew who hexed me? Why didn't you tell me? How did you know?"

Derek flinched, closing his fingers over his eyes. "Fire based hexes are her specialty. She didn't deny it when I confronted her. She might try it again."

"How long have you known?" Stiles snarled lowly.

"A little while after Madame McCall released you from the Hospital Wing last semester."

Stiles leaned back, his jaw slack and his eyes incredulous. Suddenly, he leaned into Derek's face. "You- you- that night you- You'd just come from her, hadn't you? Is that what that was? To protect me?"

"No, I-" Derek tried, but Stiles jumped to his feet.

The world swam around him. "Why didn't you tell me?" Stiles screeched, Derek stumbling to his feet. They didn't get another word out. In a moment, they were both collapsing to the floor, white, sleepy light taking over their vision.

…..

Blinking into consciousness, Stiles could just barely hear Melissa talking quietly to what sounded to be Scott, Lydia, and Danny. She was whispering quietly, conscious of how loud she was and of the two resting teenagers in her clinic.

"They're going to be fine. They were just severely exhausted. You three should get to bed, that's where I'm headed. You'll be able to see them tomorrow."

"But-" Scott started.

Melissa wasn't having any of it though. "No 'buts'," she reprimanded, her voice crawling in volume before falling again, "Go to bed. You being here isn't going to help them. It's just going to exhaust you which won't help anyone. Go to bed."

Scott relented, murmuring, "Alright, but can we push their beds closer? They always seem to sleep better when they're next to each other. And at least they'll have someone to talk to if they wake up."

The four were silent for a long moment. "Alright," Melissa said. It was only a few seconds before Stiles' cot was being pushed to the left. It clanged quietly against another, coming to a stop. "Alright, off to bed with all of you."

"See you tomorrow, dude. Get better," Scott said, patting him on the shoulder.

A slimmer hand pressed to his shoulder, breath fanning across his neck. "I know you're not asleep. Whatever is wrong, fix it now. I don't want to have to charm you two to sleep again. Next time it'll be into a coma." Leaning back, she squeezed his arm, and turned.

Danny leaned in. "Fix this, whatever it is. I don't like seeing you hurt." He stole a chaste kiss from him, pulling back. "Get better. I'll see you tomorrow." In less than a minute, Stiles and Derek were left utterly alone.

Despite the rage and betrayal still simmering behind his breast bone, and how his heart seemed to be aching, he still reached for Derek's hand, twining their fingers together. Almost immediately, he began to feel warm and sleepy. Derek's pulse picked up beneath his fingertips. "Why?" Stiles whispered.

"Why… what?" Derek murmured, not meeting his eyes as he turned to look at him.

"Why would you hide that from me? Why wouldn't you tell me?" Stiles asked, hurt evident in his strained voice.

Derek closed his eyes, pain creasing his face. "I didn't want you to get hurt. I thought that if you didn't know, you wouldn't do anything drastic, that you'd be safe, that I could protect you."

"If I didn't know, I wouldn't be able to take precautions. Why did she hex me?"

"I don't know, but I'm not seeing her anymore. I'm going to protect you."

A bitter taste filled his mouth. He wanted to release Derek's hand, but his fingers refused to unlock. "How are you protecting me?" he asked just as bitterly, "Why did you stop sleeping in my bed?"

"I-" Derek tried, but his mouth seemed to have short-circuited.

"I've been miserable. I hadn't slept since the first day of vacation and I only managed to catch a few hours on Friday. You look like you've been just as miserable, I **know** you have been. Cora didn't stop talking to me, but you did. I don't understand. What did I do? What did I say? Why did you stop talking to me? Looking at me? Sleeping with me?" His voice dropped along with his eyes. "Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you! Why would you think that?" Derek asked quickly, frantically.

"I wonder why," Stiles sighed sarcastically, too tired to put any weight behind his words, "Then why?"

Derek bit at his lip hard, drawing blood. "It would be inappropriate," he explained lamely.

"Inappropriate?" Stiles asked incredulously.

His face heated with embarrassment. "You're dating Danny."

Stiles couldn't help but laugh aloud. "Is that what this is about?" Immediately, Derek shrank into himself, feeling ten kinds of mortification heating his body. Stiles reached out with gentle hands, soothing him. "Danny doesn't care. He told me in the first couple weeks that we started dating that as long as you and me don't do anything, we can continue to share a bed. He told me it doesn't bother him."

"Oh…" Derek whispered in the smallest voice Stiles had ever heard.

"You should have just come talk to me."

"I know."

They were silent for a moment, listening to the owls hooting to one another in the night sky. "Does this mean we can start sharing my bed again?" Stiles asked, a grin already forming in his voice.

Derek breathed out a sigh, "Yeah, we can."

…..

Blinking blearily into consciousness, Stiles watched Derek stumble from the Slytherin dormitories to get ready for the school day. After sleeping for forty-eight straight hours in the Hospital Wing, everything had returned to normal save for Stiles dating Danny. The only thing was that Stiles' dorm mates hadn't known that, not really.

"What the actual fuck?" Jackson growled, glaring flaming daggers in Stiles direction as he made to get dressed for the school day.

"What are you pissed at so early in the morning?" Aiden yawned, pulling back his bed drapes and crawling from his bed, "Did your wet dream not end like it was supposed to?"

Jackson stood, still glaring at a half dressed Stiles. "Stilinski, you are dating my best friend. What the fuck do you think you're doing? If you're going to cheat on him, do it discreetly or break up with him. Otherwise, I'm going to break your face," he threatened.

"I'm not cheating on Danny," Stiles said plainly, attempting to remember through his sleepy haze how to tie a tie.

"Someone actually decided to date you?" Matt asked, emerging from the bathroom fully awake and looking alive.

"Danny's too good for you," Aiden yawned, struggling to pull on pants. He fell over, pulling them up the rest of the way from the floor.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious, I already knew that," Stiles shot back sarcastically.

"Back to topic," Jackson snarled, "I don't know how you define cheating, but sleeping with someone other than who you're dating is definitely considering cheating."

"One, we're not having sex or dating, so no, not cheating. Two, Danny knows, he doesn't mind," Stiles said, snatching up his messenger bag.

"Danny doesn't care? You're fucking delusional," Jackson snapped.

"Ask him yourself," Stiles said, headed for the door. Before leaving, he threw over his shoulder, "I'm still not cheating on Danny."

…..

"What are you playing at?" Jackson asked Danny as he slid in beside his best friend before Stiles had gotten to the Great Hall.

Before Danny could answer with a question of his own, Derek came to stand behind him. "Danny, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Shrugging to Jackson with a smirk and standing, he followed Derek from the Great Hall until they found a relatively private corner to speak. "What do you need?" he asked, leaning against the wall to watch Derek pace back and forth in front of him.

"What are you playing at?" Derek growled, stopping and turning to Danny.

He threw his hands into the air. "Wow, that's the second time someone's asked me that question just today. Is it question Danny day? What the hell are you talking about? What did I do to make even my best friends ask me that?"

"You started dating Stiles without any explanation," Derek said simply.

Danny gaped at him. "You've got to be kidding me? Is that what this is about? Do I have to have a fucking reason to date another consenting human being?"

"When you're not any sort of attracted to said questionable human being? Yes," Derek said.

"What do you know about who I'm attracted to? I started dating Stiles because I'm attracted to him," Danny said earnestly.

Derek frowned, looking up and down Danny. "You're lying."

"No, I'm not," Danny insisted.

"Yes, you are." He stared Danny down, waiting for him to fold. After a long silent moment, Danny's indignation fell away leaving an indifferent shrug of his shoulders.

"You're right. I didn't start dating him because I'm attracted to him, but I am at least a little. I wouldn't have done him otherwise. I'm honestly surprised at this point that he didn't lose his virginity sooner."

"Then why are you dating him?" Derek snarled, eyes flashing blue as he glared daggers at the boy.

"Something to do to keep me entertained," Danny said nonchalantly, but guilt soured his normally pleasant scent.

Derek narrowed his eyes. "I swear on my magic, if you hurt him-"

"Oh, shut up. I don't need the father-brother-best-friend speech, alright? I already got that from Sheriff Stilinski while he was cleaning his shotgun, thank you very much. If you're so worried about it, do something about it," Danny said tauntingly, glaring just as harshly back. "Go for what you want, don't wait for it to come to you. Protect who is important to you, don't make threats and then let him get hurt." With that, Danny stalked past an utterly confused Derek. "Speaking of protecting and Stiles, do you know where he is? He usually comes in before Jackson, but I haven't seen him."

"What?" Derek asked, then shouted, "Shit!" He missed the satisfied nod Danny gave before he goes to find Jackson.

Danny frowned though. "I hope he's okay," he muttered, pushing into the Great Hall.

…..

Stiles **had been** minding his own business, headed to meet Danny for breakfast and possibly a morning make-out session if Scott or Jackson didn't try to stop them. He couldn't say that he had feelings beside friendship for Danny, but he also couldn't say that the sex and kissing and hand holding and **cuddling** weren't absolutely fantastic. Even if he had a strange feeling that he wanted to be doing all those things with a specific someone, he wasn't exactly sure who that someone was. As he'd been thinking, he **had been** minding his own business when he was dragged by an invisible hand and slammed into a dark corner.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Stiles groaned angrily, wrapping his fingers around his wand and firing blindly. The air around him was crackling with magic and liquid electricity.

A woman yelped unattractively, then snarled. "Stop acting like a fucking idiot, boy."

Stiles eyes popped open and suddenly he was staring at Kate Argent working to fix whatever he'd done to screw up her now lion's mane hair and soaking, turning see-through robes. "Then don't slam me against walls, soul sucking harpy," he snapped back.

"Shut up," Kate snarled, pointing her wand at him, aligning the tips of their wands. "You've ruined everything, you nasty little mudblood." She looked as if she were going through withdrawals. Her eyes were bloodshot, mouth cracked and bloodied, eyes dark. Her skin was pale and sweaty, her hair brittle.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm not a mudblood, you nasty old hag, I'm a half-blood. You can go choke on a dick. I haven't done **anything** to you besides release my patronus on you, and she was harmless. You deserved that every time I did it."

"You are a mudblood in my eyes. And you continue to ruin and muddy everything with your goddamn hands."

"Ruin what? I haven't **done** anything!" Stiles shouted, small flashes of lightning crackling around them.

"Everything! Everything!" Kate screeched, wild rage in her eyes, "I needed him to trust me and he did! He did trust me, then you fucking stepped in and ruined it all! He doesn't want me! He doesn't trust me! You've ruined everything!"

"What are you talking about? Who are you talking about? I haven't made anyone distrust! If anything, you did that on your own."

"You didn't **have** to do anything," Kate breathed through her teeth nearly breathing fire. Her wand creaked ominously with the strain she was putting on it. "That fucking idiot fell in love with you. Now he doesn't trust me!"

"I don't know who you're talking about," Stiles lied, the lightning increasing. Honestly, he did have an idea. There was only realistically one person Kate would get in his face about, the only person they had in common. "But if they are in love with me, then they probably don't trust you because you **hexed** me!"

"Shut up! Shut up!" Kate screamed, lifting her wand again. "I'm going to kill you, you filthy mudblood! Then he'll come running back."

"Get over yourself!" Stiles shouted over top of her, "Killing me won't bring him back to you! **You** drove him away!"

"I'm going to kill you!" she repeated.

"Just try!"

A curse, one that was almost certainly forbidden, was already spilling from her mouth when the pressure around them snapped, sending them both through the walls behind them into crowded hallways. Stiles groaned loudly, pushing himself up enough to see Derek pushing through a crowd of students, relief and concern twisting his face.

"I got her before she got me," Stiles whispered with a grin, dropping his head back down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was… an enormous amount of typing. Sadly, it will probably happen again. Hope you liked this chapter because I really enjoyed writing everyone getting in each other's faces. There was a lot of fighting in this chappy for some unknown reason, and I'm really sorry if I offended anyone with the name calling and so on!


	8. Unsettling Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate's gone. Derek, words and drinking don't mix. Peter's creepy as always, but Malia saves the damsel in distress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter was crap. Sorry it's short and late, but I ran out of ideas for Fourth Year. I dragged it out a little too long. Each part was written on a different day, so they might each sound a little different. My favorite part for this chapter though is the last part.

Deaton stood at his podium, overlooking the whole of the Great Hall. He looked more serious than any of them had ever seen him, mouth pinched, eyes haunted and disappointed. They skipped over each student, pausing on Stiles and his friends as he came to them. Grasping the sides of his podium, he inhaled deeply and sighed heavily.

"We are nearing the end of yet another year, and though much has remained the same for some of you, much had changed for others of you." His eyes fell to Stiles before darting away. "But one thing can be said, it has been a very eventful year. Before we get to eating , I have a few things that you all need to know about." He breathed deeply again, glancing behind him at the two empty seats at Chris Argent's side.

"Now that the Fifth Years have finished their O.W.L.s, the decision has been made to release Professor Katherine Argent. Until we find someone new to take her place, your Charms period will now become a free period for the remainder of the year."

Stiles, wide-eyed, snapped his head to Scott and Derek as the Great Hall filled with suspicious mutters and exuberant shouts. At his own table, the other boys exchanged quick sentences, eyes darting between one another.

"Holy shit, they **fired** her?" Matt whispered, glancing wide-eyed between his dorm mates and the empty seats.

Jackson stared at him incredulously. "Of course they did, dumbass. She **attacked** a student, even if she did end up in the Hospital Wing right alongside him. They'd never let that fly, especially since Deaton's mothering instinct is as large as Kate's ego."

"I'm not sure that metaphor actually makes any sort of sense," Aiden muttered.

"A free period will also be replacing your Defense Against the Dark Arts period as Professor Gerard Argent had decided to resign in wake of Professor Katherine Argent's dismissal. For the time being, those posts will remain empty until we find new professors before the beginning of next year." Silence, thick and uncomfortable, filled the Great Hall, all eyes trained on their headmaster. "As a reminder, everything that walks in the day is not good, just as everything that travels in the night is not always bad. Be wary. I wish you all a prosperous end to your school year." With the last of his words, Deaton clapped and turned to take his seat beside Chris.

…..

"Bed," Stiles groaned quietly, stumbling towards the Slytherin dormitories somewhere around three in the morning the last Friday night of the term, the other boys in tow. He shoved through the door, falling face-first into his bed. Two bodies fell on either side of him, but he thought nothing of it. It wasn't like it hadn't happened before.

The twins climbed into Aiden's bed, falling into sleep without even removing their sweaters. Matt stole his bed for himself. Isaac and Boyd quickly claimed a bed, lying back to back. Jackson barely managed to pull off his socks and shirt before he was tumbling onto his own mattress, nearly missing it for the floor.

Danny stood over Stiles' bed, glaring at the two extra bodies crowding it. "No, really, do either of you understand the term ' _boyfriend_ '? Doesn't that automatically give me bed rights?" he asked indignantly.

Scott peaked at him over his shoulder, but snuggled closer to his best friend, sticking out his tongue playfully. Derek couldn't be bothered to even twitch a muscle.

With a roll of his eyes, Danny turned to Jackson's bed. "It's fine, whatever, but I get bed privileges for at least a week without any interruptions from you two after this, I hope you know," he quipped irately as he pushed his best friend to the side and slid beneath the covers.

"Only if you're gentle with me," Stiles murmured back sleepily, mouth thick with alcohol and blankets, "I'm a fragile flower."

"You're about as fragile as Peter's confidence," Danny told him.

"Shut up and go to sleep," Jackson snarled, slapping a pillow over Danny's face. After a short scuffle that ended with Danny as the victor, they settled down.

The room filled with the easy, steady breathing of deep sleepers, ones that would probably be considered dead if their chests didn't move so much. They were all just beginning to slip into their respective dreams when a loud crash echoed through the room, followed by a low, deep groan of pain, startling them back into the waking world.

"What the absolute fuck was that?" Jackson groaned into the still darkness.

Stiles leaned over the side of his bed, looking down towards the floor. He could just barely make out Derek sprawled across the stones. "Derek, what happened?" he asked even though the simple answer was just that he'd rolled off the edge.

"I thought my bed was longer," Derek groaned pathetically, his voice higher, a whiney edge to it.

Stiles had to press a hand to his mouth to keep his laughter in. Giggles and laughter were stifled against pillows and shoulders all around the room. "You alright?" he managed, the grin obvious in his voice.

"I think I broke something," Derek moaned.

The laughter broke forth, drunk and a little hysterical in the early morning hours, filling the room to the brim. They could hear the girls outside the dormitory, Erica, Lydia and Cora, griping about how they were all gay as they passed, heading towards the girls dormitories. The boys only laughed harder.

"Hey, Derek, why did you fall off the bed again?" Ethan asked, pressing his wrist against his mouth.

Derek growled in irritation. "I thought my bed was longer."

The laughter rolled through the room again. "But it's not your bed, Derek," Scott laughed, trying to make his words at least halfway understandable.

"What? Whose bed is it then?" Derek slurred, struggling to push himself up on his wolfsbane vodka heavy limbs, pressing his hot cheek to the cool stones beneath when he'd finally given up on the attempt.

"Stiles'," Scott replied. The pair was still watching the astonishingly drunk boy with half-hazy eyes of their own.

"What? Why am I in Stiles' bed?"

"Because you're always in his bed," Jackson shot over to him, his own words running together in a sloppy slur.

Derek was silent for a moment, putting two and two together. "Oh yeah, right." Latching onto the edge of the bed, he hauled himself back into the nest of blankets and sheets and limbs. Rearranging themselves, Scott lay on his stomach, occupying most of the space. Stiles faced him, lying on his side, and Derek pressed in against his back, nuzzling the back of his neck. Warm, moist breath fanned across Stiles' neck, sending a shiver up his spine.

"The Gay Brigade has finally settled down," Jackson murmured, pressing into Danny's side like he'd never do if he were sober.

"It seems like that makes it your turn to shut up," Boyd grumbled without malice or irritation.

Jackson hissed low in his throat, the vibration running along Danny's shoulder, but no words followed.

As the room drifted back to sleep, no one, save for Stiles, heard the three life-changing words whispered on Derek's last conscious breath, " _I love you_."

…..

"Um, Professor Peter," Stiles called cautiously as he pushed open the classroom door, half hoping that Peter wouldn't be there while simultaneously hoping he would be because he couldn't exactly fix his problem on his own. He was the last professor he wanted to go near, especially since he could smell distress and weakness a mile away, but he was also the only teacher who could remotely correct whatever that Sixth Year had done.

Of course, Peter was there and in the most jovial of moods. Stiles could only repress a hopeless groan.

"Ah, Stiles! What a nice surprise, but I have to wonder why you're here and not getting ready for the travel home," Peter said, closing his last trunk with a practiced flick of his wand. He moved towards Stiles, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Is it about my nephew? I knew you'd come around eventually. I recommend you initiate it, otherwise it'll never happen."

Red staining his cheeks, Stiles shook his head. "This isn't about Derek. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I'm in a relationship with a Ravenclaw. It's another Transfiguration and Charm issue."

The sly smile continued to play across Peter's lips even as he said, "Pity, but you should let Derek take care of that Sixth Year puta for you."

Stiles rubbed at his forehead, trying to purge the sound of Peter saying ' _puta_ ' in casual conversation from his mind. "I can deal with the Sixth Year on my own. What I can't deal with is my zipper trying to inject me with scorpion poison every time I try to unzip it or my skin burning anyone who comes in contact with me. Do you know how long I've gone without kissing my boyfriend or hugging Scott or pinching Derek? Hours, Professor, hours."

"Are you sure you're not stressing because you haven't gotten head from this ' _boyfriend_ ' of yours in those hours?" Peter asked, unimpressed as he twirled his wand carelessly through the air.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at Peter. "I didn't think you thought to little of me, Professor, but… I'm not saying that doesn't have something to do with it either."

Rolling his eyes, Peter gestured to Stiles' clothing. "Off with the cloak then, I need to be able to see what I'm doing. For the burning, I'd suggest seeing Professor Harris or perhaps Madame McCall. You might need to get tested for an STD."

"Har har, you're absolutely hilarious, Professor. I'm rolling on the floor with laughter," Stiles snapped sarcastically, stripping his cloak from his shoulders, tossing it over a desk, "I don't have an STI."  
"How would you know? You've only been sexually active for less than a year, and I can guarantee that your ' _boyfriend_ ' has been sexually active for at least a year longer," Peter replied easily, staring down at the scorpion tail growing out of Stiles' fly, "Well, well, that is a problem, but sloppy work on that Sixth Year's part."

"Yeah, so bad that I don't know how he managed it," Stiles grumbled, "And how would you know how long I've been doing the do? That's not information I hand out on a whim."

Peter rolled his eyes sharply before returning to the task at hand. "Oh please, you **reeked** of virginity up until after Christmas break. Anyone with eyes could tell someone had fucked you, and in a good way too. It's too bad it wasn't my nephew." He stepped back, muttering a few spells under his breath as he waved his wand through the air. After several more attempts, the scorpion tail finally curled in on itself, returning to its normal boring zipper self. "There, all fixed. Roll up your sleeve."

"No, seriously, what is with you and getting Derek and me naked in bed together?" Stiles spat, his face coloring again as his mind returned to the night before and the words Derek had whispered as he'd slipped into sleep.

Peter ran a finger along Stiles' forearm, jerking his hand back as his flesh began to sizzle. "That's a nasty charm there. I can tell you that it wasn't cast by the zipper perpetrator. It corresponds with Kate's M.O., but the magic is different. You've made yourself quite a few enemies, Stiles." He stepped back, staring at Stiles' pale freckle marked skin in fascination. Stiles wanted to turn and run. "I'm simply a concerned uncle looking out for my nephew's best interests."

"Being a little less concerned would be superb," Stiles muttered, resisting the urge to cross his arms.

Peter's eyebrows rose at that. "Oh, don't get me wrong, Stiles, I would love to see my nephew unwind and dislodge that pole he's got shoved up his rectum, but you are a fascinating creature all on your own. I wouldn't mind bending you over a desk myself." He said the words so casually, as if he screwed students every day.

For all Stiles knew, he did. He suddenly wasn't as comfortable leaning against the desk as he had been before. ' _I should have brought Lydia or Scott with me_ ,' he thought miserably.

"Dad, leave him alone," a gruff, unfailingly calm female voice said from the doorway, "You can't drag him into your bed of fire. It's illegal, even in the Wizarding World, and by the look on his face, it'd be rape."

"Ah, Malia, darling, have you finished packing?" Peter asked, smiling his smile that boasted of his power over others. At a curt nod, he continued. "This is Mr. Stilinski. He's second on your year behind Lydia Martin. Have you had the pleasure of meeting?"

"Not officially. Madame McCall and Sheriff Stilinski have given me a ride home on a number of occasions, but we've only really talked in passing when he wasn't being hung off of by his other friends." She looked over him and held out her hand, deeming him worthy. "Officially, I'm Malia Hale or Tate, whichever you prefer. I've seen your Quidditch matches. You play well. I'd like to play with you one of these days."

The dirty blonde watched him expectantly, brown eyes focused on him, tanned hand outstretched.

Stiles stumbled over his words, hands flailing uselessly around himself. "Oh, um, it's nice to, um, actually talk to you. I'd shake your hand, but- It's kind of, uh-" He shot a glare towards Peter.

Peter rolled his eyes again. "Mr. Stilinski had made a number of enemies. He was just having me help remove a charm that burns anyone who comes into skin to skin contact with him." With a mutter and flick, Peter waved grandiosely at them. "Hurt my daughter, Stiles, and Kate Argent will be the least of your worries," Peter told him cheerfully.

Malia shook Stiles' hand with a flutter of eyelashes and pointed glare at her father. "I can take care of myself, Dad. Butt out and stop scaring people away," she snarled. Leading Stiles out, they started towards the Slytherin dormitories.

"I didn't realize Peter had any children," Stiles said, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Several, actually. He has another son that I've met, but he's too young for Hogwarts still. I haven't met any of the others yet."

"I didn't, uh, realize **you** were his daughter."

"We didn't either till a few years ago. Thank you, Aunt Talia." She should have sounded bitter, but mostly, she just sounded annoyed. "It's not information we just give out." She waited outside the common room calmly as Stiles dodged the questions of his dorm mates and dragged his trunk out. "Sorry about my Dad," she said as they turned to go to Gryffindor Tower, "He's a psychopath."

"Oh, I know. He wants to pin me to a bed. **I know**." Stiles laughed a little, calling the password to the Fat Lady from down the hall. They stepped into the common room, and as they did, Stiles said, "Oh, sorry for not actually introducing myself. I'm Stiles Stilinski. No, that's not actually my first name, but my real name is almost as hellish as your father. Nice to meet you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well… that was that. I really have a love for writing Peter being creepy and faking concern. There is a reason that he acts like that towards Stiles, and it's not a shipping reason. We'll find out probably in Sixth Year, so we get another year of him being creepy. I'd like to hear your theories on why Peter acts the way he does, if y'all don't mind.


	9. Braving the Hales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Scott go over to the Hales for dinner and a little eye-groping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, alright, so this chapter was actually rather fun to write. It was supposed to be nearly 1,000 words short, but I got an idea at the end that I thought you guys might be interested in, and I surely was.
> 
> In the next two or three chapters (two weeks from now), I'll have to put this story on a temporary 2-3 month hiatus seeing as I won't have access to a computer, or any electronics for that matter. During those months, I might manage to finish the story, so it should go fast after that, but I can't promise anything. I don't know how much free time I'll be getting.

"Home sweet home," Stiles sighed happily, flopping onto his bed that still smelled strongly of himself and Danny, and faintly of Scott. Rubbing his face through his covers, he grinned. "I'm going to sleep for like a week straight."

"Not this week," Scott said, landing beside him and offering him a chocolate chip cookie. He already had one shoved so deep into his mouth, Stiles was a little worried he'd choke.

"Why?" he whined, refusing to roll over.

"Because you promised Derek, Malia, and Cora that we'd come over for dinner tonight and mediate the family gathering."

"What? Why would we want to do that? It's like walking willingly to your own execution."

Scott rolled his eyes, stuffing the cookie he'd offered into his mouth. "Come on, they're not that bad. Dude, your dad's cookies taste like the ones my mom bakes. Do they use the same recipe?"

"Scottie, you know my dad. He would burn the house down if he even attempted to bake anything. Your mom probably brought them over while we were at your house. We were there for like two and a half hours." Stiles pushed himself up, running his hand through his hair. He supposed he should probably make himself at least slightly more presentable. "Where did they go anyway? Dad isn't on the night shift tonight. Is your mom?"

Scott frowned. "No, but the oven is still warm, and my mom didn't make anything beforehand… It doesn't take her long to make cookies and the dishes aren't done, so what were they doing all that time before?"

They glanced at each other, eyes wide, and shook their heads quickly. Stiles bounced up, tearing his shirt off over his head. "Nope. Nope nope nope. I want that thought nowhere near me. They just got called into work right after Melissa finished with the cookies. That's the story, and that's what I'm sticking to. Let's go eat and get eye-groped by Derek's crazy ass family."

"Maybe **you'll** get eye-groped, but I won't be, and their food is awesome," Scott said, following Stiles off the bed. "Stop primping for Derek, I'm hungry, Laura is waiting outside, and you've got a boyfriend already. Let's go."

"I am **not** primping," Stiles shot back, dropping his hands from his hair, "I do not primp. I always look fabulous."

"And that sounded really gay. Danny would be proud of you. Let's go."

Rolling his eyes, Stiles slapped Scott on the back as they headed down the stairs. Outside, Laura honked the horn of a sleek, black Camaro impatiently.

…..

"Stiles!" Talia cooed, descending on the boy in a whirl of motherly affection and curly dark hair. She hugged him to her chest, squeezing him tightly, nuzzling the side of his face. Her breath was warm against his skin, her heart strong beneath his palm. "How are you doing, son?"

Stiles grinned widely into her shoulder, only resisting her for the eyes of the people packed into the house. "Very well, Mrs. Hale, for all the hours of travel. What about you? How has your year been?" he asked, allowing himself to be wrapped in the warmth of her affection.

"Very well, very well," Talia told him, slowly releasing him as the others poured into the hallway.

Cora threw a punch into Stiles' shoulder then Scott's, rolling her eyes. "Took you guys long enough. Was it because Stilinski was primping?"

Stiles groaned as Scott laughed. "For the last time, I don't primp. Jackson primps. I make sure I don't look like my usual hobo-licious self."

"Really, Stiles? Hobo-licious?" Derek asked, ducking around an uncle or maybe cousin. Malia darted through the narrow alley he'd made to stand beside Cora.

Talia watched with a remarkable amount of interest as Stiles' eyes fell on her son, his smile spreading just a bit wider, his eyes sparkling. She greatly enjoyed watching their interactions. They had so many strong emotions directed towards each other, but so little knowledge of them. It was baffling and adorably and so, so irritating all at the same time.

Just to watch the fire race across their faces, she said with a wide, toothy smile, "So, I've planned your wedding for the July after you finish your schooling. Stiles, you'll be wearing an absolutely gorgeous dress." She was not disappointed.

"Mom!" Derek cried as Stiles screeched, "Mrs. Hale!" Their faces were the red of rubies as they stepped only a shoulder width apart.

"Oh, call me 'mom', Stiles. The moon knows it will happen soon enough," Talia told him, ignoring their indignation and moving to the kitchen, her husband shook his head in only minor disapproval.

Scott laughed, following Cora into the living room and leaving his best friend and Derek to the mercy of the Hales. They disappeared the living room, looking for Cards Against Humanity and Apples to Apples.

"You never told me you were engaged to one of my many **male** cousins," Malia said, her words like a snarl, accusation buried somewhere deep in the back of her voice. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, leaning her weight on her back foot, her eyes flashing blue.

"No, I am **not** engaged to Derek," Stiles said sternly, glancing around at the Hale family chattering around the hallway, "I'm **dating** Danny, and I have no intention of getting married any time soon. While some marriages succeed when the couple is young, those that don't, those that are broken by war, rival love, death, or simply that the couple was too young, they just leave broken people in their wake. I don't wish that on anyone, let alone myself."

The house was suddenly very quiet. "What if you found someone you love and wanted to be bonded to for forever?" Malia asked quietly.

"I wouldn't recognize it, and even if I did, I'd probably fuck it up somehow," Stiles muttered. The house was silent once more.

"So much cynicism for one so young. Where'd that come from, I wonder?" Peter asked, coming down the stairs.

Stiles had a retort on his tongue, one that would hurt him as much as it would shock and shut Peter up, but he held back. That was not what his mother's death meant to him. He would not disgrace her memory by saying something like that. He glared at Peter for a short moment before turning and marching into the kitchen.

The kitchen where he found Derek's parents leaned against each other, hips pressed back into the edge of the counter. They were wrapped in each other, eyes focused with the same intensity on him as he stormed through.

"Stiles," Derek said, hurrying after him. They stopped, staring at his parents. It only took them a moment before they were moving again, Stiles headed for Derek's bedroom. Though he'd never been upstairs, he knew somehow exactly which of the many rooms belonged to Derek.

"Get me drunk," Stiles said as Derek closed the door behind them.

"What?" Derek whispered like the entire house could hear every word they said.

"Get me drunk. Drunk off my ass. Make me forget that your uncle is an asshole and that I'm a terrible person."

"You're not a terrible person, Stiles, far from it," Derek tried to reason.

"I am, more than you know. So, get me drunk, and then we can discuss it."

Derek groaned, but had no time to reply as the door opened to a young boy with his hand over his eyes. "Uncle Derek, I don't want to know what you're doing up here, but Dad says it's time for dinner."

"Micah, we're not doing anything," Derek told the boy, prying his hand from his eyes, "I don't know what Uncle Peter has been telling you, but we're not like that."

"Uncle Derek, I may be nine-years-old, but even I know that's a lie," the boy said matter-of-factly, looking towards Stiles.

A wave of heat flushed through Stiles' body at the sight of him, a thin sheen of sweat cropping up along his skin. Watching as the pair bantered, the crackling of flames filled his ears, flickering and burning pressed in on his eyes. His cry, the cry for a father that didn't belong to him, rang high over the flames. The cry was Micah's voice.

He needed to sit down. ' _I'm going to be sick_.'

"Um, Uncle Derek, I think your boyfriend is about to pass out. He doesn't sm- look too good," Micah pointed out as Stiles dropped to the window seat, rubbing at his forehead.

"Derek, you really need to get me drunk. Like right now. And maybe get me into a cold shower," Stiles grumbled.

Micah turned on a heel. "That's my cue to leave."

Grabbing his shoulder, Derek held him back. "Not like that, he's having a hot flash."

"What is he? A fifty year old woman going through menopause?"

"My life would be several times easier if I was," Stiles muttered.

Micah watched as Derek moved to Stiles, pushing the window open. "I think we should take him downstairs. Dad has that stash that'll get him drunk enough to pass out." He stared for a moment longer before muttering, his nose wrinkled, "You should probably get him changed. He smells like anxiety and sweat and… ashes? Whatever. Dinner's ready."

…..

"Derek, you and your boyfriend are just adorable," one of Derek's many family members cooed. She ruffled Stiles hair, drawing him to her. He laughed loudly, drunkenly, struggling in her grip.

Rubbing at his forehead, Derek tried to keep Scott from falling off the couch. He was falling asleep quickly, but the rest were all still going strong. "Once again, he's not my boyfriend. He's just my friend. Auntie, you're not even drunk, what the hell?"

"He sure as hell doesn't smell like he's not your boyfriend. He's got your scent all over him," she laughed, allowing Stiles freedom to stumble against Derek's shoulder. "He's even drawn to you like a magnet. Honestly, when are you two going to make it official? I hope I'm invited to the wedding."

Laura glanced between Derek and her family members. "Alright, I think I should take Scott and Malia home. Derek, you should put Stiles to bed. I don't think taking him home plastered is the best idea. We'll take him home tomorrow."

"Yeah, alright, thanks," Derek said, throwing her a grateful look as he passed Scott off to her. He scooped Stiles into his arms, ignoring the catcalls from his family. "See you tomorrow, Malia, Scott."

"Bye, Derek," the pair called back sleepily, following Laura out to the Camaro with combined yawns.

As Derek kicked his door shut, shutting out the voices of his family calling up to them, the Camaro roared to life outside. Placing Stiles on his bed, he set to work on removing the boy's shoes and socks.

Stiles giggled, fighting Derek every step of the way. "Is the big, bad wolf going to steal my virtue?" he laughed.

"I wouldn't take your virtue from you, even if you still had it," Derek said, tossing Stiles' legs onto the bed.

"What if I gave it to you?"

Derek stopped, one of his shoes in his hands and the other with fingers hooked around the edge. "You don't have virtue to give, at least not of the kind you're referring to," he replied after a spell, removing his shoe followed by his socks. He crawled onto the bed beside Stiles, pushing him below the covers.

"Work with me here, buns. I'm trying to get into your pants," Stiles complained, dragging Derek beneath the covers, "Be a sport."

The mortification of knowing that his entire family could most certainly hear everything that was going on flooded Derek's body, heating his cheeks. "Stiles, you're dating Danny and you're drunk," Derek tried to reason, wrapping his fingers around Stiles' wrists, holding him back.

"Come on, you know I'm hardly even buzzed. I'm barely half as drunk as I was that one time you and Danny both ended up in my bed and I somehow ended up on the floor."

"That doesn't change the fact that you are drunk."

"I am not drunk."

"Stiles-" Derek started, but a warm mouth was over his in the next second, newly experienced lips and tongue moving against his own. That's all it took to break his resolve, and suddenly, wished he was a little drunk too. He was pretty sure this was somewhere along the lines of emotional blackmail.

Derek was leaning over Stiles, pressing his shoulders into the bed when a loud knock broke them apart. They panted, staring wide-eyed at each other.

"Derek," Talia called through the door, laughter in her voice, "You guys need anything? Some snacks? A condom?"

"Mom, stop quoting _Mean Girls_!" Derek shouted back, face burning, but he didn't push away from Stiles.

"Oh, come on, darling! It's never a bad time for _Mean Girls_ quotes," Talia replied.

Groaning, Derek tried to roll away, but Stiles dragged him back against his body. "What do you want, Mom?"

"We're all going for a run. We'll be back in a few hours." She didn't wait for him to reply. Instead, there was a mass migration out of the house, then silence.

Stiles, impatient of waiting for Derek to finish with his listening, pulled Derek closer. "Where were we?"

…..

Stiles dragged himself from Derek's bed in the early hours of the morning, head pounding, hips aching worse than his first time. He pulled on a pair of Derek's well-loved sweatpants lying across the floor and pulled his shirt over his head. "Ugh, fuck hangovers," he groaned, shielding his eyes from the crawling sunlight, stumbling down the stairs.

"Good morning, Stiles," Talia's voice called softly from the kitchen on the scent of coffee, wafting towards him invitingly. "Slept well, I see."

Stiles followed her voice and the promise of caffeine, finding Talia already pushing a topped off cup towards him. A kettle of what he assumed was tea sat on the counter beside her, wrapped in one of those weird tea cozies which was embroidered with wolves. "Yeah, I suppose. No night terrors, no waking up feeling like a fire is slowly scorching my insides. Actually, besides the hangover, I don't think I've felt this good in weeks."

"Good, good, I'm glad, but please, Stiles, be sure you are not playing with my son's emotions. We may enjoy teasing the two of you about your relationship being something that it is not, but we do not wish for either of you to be hurt," Talia told him, only her top lip visible above the edge of her wolf mug. Why were there so many wolves in this house?

Stiles frowned at her, a question in his eyes, fingers wrapped around his own mug, one with Belle on it. "I don't understand."

Talia set her mug down, folding her hands together before her. "You are both young, Stiles, so I don't expect you to see or feel it right now, but there are things unique to our family and the people who come into it. Things that we who have felt its tug can see simply by observing you and Derek." She surveyed him before asking, "Did Derek ever tell you about Paige?"

Stiles shook his head. "No, only in passing, to calm me down when we first met. Other than that, I don't know anything about her."

Talia nodded. "That is a story I'm sure Derek will tell you when he is ready. Just know that Paige was dearly important to him, and when he lost her, he lost a part of himself. He's slowly begun to gain that part back, but if he loses another person that important to him, I do not think he will survive it. So be careful, my dear, don't say or do things you do not mean. Be sure of those that you do."

"I understand," Stiles whispered, staring into the murky water of his coffee, feeling Derek's words from the last night of term whispered on the back of his neck once more.

Blinking slowly, Talia unfolded herself from her chair, slipping her fingers around the handle of her mug. "Follow me, Stiles, I have something to show you."

Following after, Stiles blurted into the silence, "Derek isn't going to have an existential crisis about last night because I was a little drunk, right?" he asked, sudden worry flooding his system. He couldn't even care less that this was Derek's mother. She already knew, so what was the point in hiding it?

"Oh, I'm sure he's already having one."

"Shit," Stiles whispered.

"You can go try to reason with him in a moment. Come over here for a second." Talia held a photo album in her hands, her cup discarded on the mantle, the book cracked down the middle.

Trotting over, Stiles glanced down at the open page. "Hey! That's my mother!" he cried, eyes already beginning to burn. He scrubbed at them, wanting to see the images without them being distorted.

"That it is, and that is me beside her. I'll bet you didn't know, but we were the best of friends, even after we left Hogwarts and started our own families. We were in Gryffindor together, but different years. She was younger than me, but incredibly smart, like the Sheriff. Even so, I was drawn to her like a moth to flames. She burned so brilliantly, it was a wonder everyone didn't want to be at her side, but only the oddest of fellows migrated to her, similar to you and your friends." She laughed quietly at a picture of the pair chugging butterbear in the Three Broomsticks, splashing the liquid down their fronts. "That's something for me to explain later though. You should probably know that, like her, you will attract both good and wicked beings. You'll need to be extremely careful."

Stiles gave her a puzzled look, but she plowed ahead without pause.

"What do you know of bonds, Stiles?"

"Not anything noteworthy."

"Well, for this particular lesson, you need to know that they can arise from many things, particularly friendship and finding a mate. Both of those I just mentioned are equally powerful and unique to the Hales in that we feel these bonds form, and they are unnaturally strong, particularly the bond between mates. I formed a bond through friendship with your mother as you have with Scott. That type of bond forms near instantaneously and is extremely strong, but rather easily broken. On the other hand, you have the bond formed between mates, like that formed between your parents or Derek's father and myself. That bond forms slowly and then all at once, and is almost impossible to break. Death is one of the only things that can destroy it, but it is easily mistaken for a bond of friendship. That mistake happened between you mother and I, and nearly tore us apart. So when I say tread lightly, heed my words. It is a miserable thing to have a fraying friendship. Just know which is which, especially with someone fragile."

Confusion settled deep in Stiles' bones. Mates? Friendships? His mother and Talia Hale? What was she even talking about? Why did all of Derek's family talk and act so weirdly?

Out of the album, a ring hung on a thick silver chain clattered to the wooden floor. Scooping it up, Stiles stared at the simple silver band with one blue gem inlaid in the metal.

"Oh, that was your mother's. She told me to give it to you when you were old enough, that it would help you discover yourself as it helped her. It used to be engraved," Talia told him, eyes scanning over the smooth metal, "I think you should take it now. And this album as well. I have a feeling they'll be safer with you."

"Are you sure?" Stiles asked, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"I wouldn't be offering if I weren't," Talia told him, grinning and pressing the book into his chest.

"Thank you, Mom!" he shouted without thinking, wrapping his arms around her before darting up the stairs, coffee, album and ring in hand.

Smiling sadly, Talia picked up her mug. Over the rim, she mumbled, "You've got quite a boy there, Claudia, strong and smart like you, but I wonder, will he able to handle what he is? I get the feeling that I'm not going to be here to help him much longer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you go. So, we're starting to find out a little about Stiles. Derek and him finally did it, but there will be more to that later. I don't know where it came from, but suddenly, I started loving the idea that Claudia and Talia were very close best friends. I don't know, I adore the idea, and it'll probably come up again later, but tell me how you guys felt towards it.


	10. Regret and Admissions

"Stiles, Derek! You up here?" Scott called, tapping lightly on Derek's bedroom door, pushing into the small space. He found the pair sprawled across Derek's bed, books and comics open across their knees, Stiles glancing at one under his top comic every few seconds. "Hey, just wanted to make sure your family didn't sew you together or something equally crazy." He almost missed the fact that Stiles was wearing a pair of Derek's sweatpants, and they'd somehow exchanged shirts. "So, what happened after Laura took Malia and me home?"

The pair pointedly refused to look at each other. "We went to bed, and then Derek had an existential crisis this morning," Stiles said conversationally, snapping the book he'd been glancing at shut and readjusting a plain silver ring on a thick chain around his neck, tucking it beneath his shirt.

"I was not having an existential crisis," Derek snarled, shoving Stiles off the bed. Getting up, he went in search of a relatively clean pair of pants.

"Yes, you were. I came up here after talking to your mom and you were all wide-eyed and freaking out," Stiles quipped back, searching for his own pants.

Scott kicked them at his face with a laugh. "Danny's looking for you, said you weren't answering your phone, and Malia wants to know if you guys want to go play paintball. She invited the others, and even Lydia agreed."

"Uh, that might perhaps be because I lost my phone somewhere around three in the morning?" Stiles said, struggling to pull his pants over his still rather sore hips. He growled, jerking at the material.

"Maybe it's shoved up your ass like your head," Derek shot at him, stripping off his pants and pulling on the ones he'd found.

Sitting up and turning to Derek, he said with the straightest face he possessed, "There were things shoved up my ass last night, but we both know none of them were my phone or my head. I may be flexible, but not that flexible."

Derek's ears blushed an entirely new shade of red. If he'd been anywhere near Stiles, he would have demonstrated exactly how flexible Stiles could be, and not in any good way.

"Are we going to go, or not?" Scott suddenly cut in, discomfort washing over him, "Because Malia, Laura, and Cora are waiting downstairs, and I'm not looking to piss any of them off. I quite like my privates where they are."

Stiles turned a blinding smile onto his best friend. "So will the girlfriend you'll have in the next couple years, or year."

"Harry Potter's underpants, I'm leaving. It's too early for innuendo slinging," Scott said quickly, throwing in the metaphorical towel, and escaping from the room before anything more could be said.

"It's never too early for innuendo slinging!" Stiles shouted after him, falling sideways back to the floor as he leaned towards the door. "Wimp, can't handle my innuendo game."

"Stiles," Derek snapped sternly, standing over him.

"Yes?" Stiles asked sweetly, grinning too widely.

"Never say that again. It sounds stupid."

"Aw, come on! I'm being trendy!"

"Be trendy in some other way that's not stupid."

Sticking out his bottom lip in a childish pout, Stiles grumbled, "You're no fun."

Derek dropped to his knees beside Stiles, leaning over him with a smirk curling across his lips. "You weren't saying that last night."

With the raise of an eyebrow, Stiles propped himself up to meet Derek's mouth. "No, I wasn't," he agreed, grinning into the kiss. They were well on their way to having to find their clothes on the floor again when Cora's voice echoed to them from down the hallway.

"You guys are fucking disgusting! Stilinski, you have a boyfriend! Derek, stop being a home wreaker!" she screeched, breaking them apart with a hard roll of their eyes, "We can hear everything you two are doing, and if I have to hear someone's tongue being shoved down someone else's throat one more time, I'm going to vomit and then we're going to leave you to clean it up!"

"We're coming!" Derek shouted back irritably, pulling Stiles to his feet. He shoved his shoes on, then took off down the hall, taking the stairs three at a time to plow into Cora. They went rolling into the living room, snarling and snapping their teeth at each other like puppies.

"Yo, don't hurt each other! We haven't even started the game yet!" Laura shot at the pair.

Stiles descended the stairs quickly, grinning at everyone. Laura wrinkled her nose at him. "What's that nasty look for?" Stiles asked defensively.

"Nothing, but I'm going to spray you with the cologne I have in the car. I don't want two people smelling like my brother in such close proximity to me," Laura told him distastefully, jerking open the door and heading towards the car.

Stiles gaped after her, and even Scott's laugh barely registered in the back of his mind. "What the holy hell is wrong with this family?!" he shouted, darting after her.

…..

"What is it?" Danny murmured, nuzzling the top of Stiles' head as they watched the movie play across the white screen. They were parked in the middle at the drive-in theater sitting in the back of Danny's truck, a blanket draped around them. Stiles was pressed back into Danny's chest, absorbing every type of Danny's warmth. "You've been very quiet all night. Is something wrong?"

Stiles shifted off one of the many bruises he'd sustained throughout the day full of paintball games, trying to find a more comfortable position to sit. "I guess," he started slowly, "I'm feeling a bit guilty. A lot guilty. And sitting here with you like something didn't happen makes me feel all the more guilty. I'm sorry."

"You haven't told me what you did yet, so why are you apologizing?" Danny asked, picking at a spot of neon blue paint Stiles had missed while showering.

"Because it's despicable, and I don't want you to hate me even though you have every right to," Stiles muttered, hiking the blanket up against his nose.

Danny was silent for a moment, combing his fingers almost lovingly through Stiles' hair. He smiled softly. "You actually slept with him, didn't you?" he asked, resting his chin on Stiles' head so he couldn't turn to look at him. He wasn't angry, just sad for some reason.

Stiles still tried to twist around. "I'm really sorry. Please don't hate me. I know that cheaters are the worst, but I don't want you to see me like you see your ex. I'd try to make the excuse that I was drunk, but that's a really shitty excuse because you still know right from wrong when intoxicated, and I knew what I was doing. I'm so sorry."

Objectively, Danny knew he had the right to feel betrayed, to be angry, but he also knew that he'd been bringing this down upon himself when he'd decided to date Stiles. Manipulating people's emotions had to have a price, and he supposed that growing feeling for Stiles and then have them crushed was the price. "It's alright, Stiles, I don't see you like my ex and I don't hate you. I'm not angry."

"What? Really? Why? You should hate me. You should be screaming and possibly cursing me. You have every right to. Why aren't you?" Stiles twisted around in Danny's arms, scanning over his face. Realization dawned like a blow to the stomach. "Oh my god, you know it would happen. Why? How?!"

Danny, still smiling, placed a quick kiss across Stiles' lips. "Because you two share a bed nearly every night. It was bound to happen eventually with the way you two eye-fuck each other when even people are looking."

"Why didn't you try to stop it?"

"Because you sleep the best when Derek is in your bed," Danny sighed, staring over Stiles' shoulder at the Sheriff and Melissa McCall walking by. Stiles tracked them with little interest, hands gripping the front of Danny's shirt. "When you don't sleep, you look like hell, like you could drop dead from some unknown disease at any time. It hurts me to see you like that, that's why I let it go. I'm happier when you're healthy and happy."

Stiles bit his bottom lip. "I would… stop if you asked me to. I don't think I'd have the strength to let someone I cared about –you- sleep with another person. I would stop if you asked me."

Danny shook his head quickly. "Don't do that. I don't want you to go back to looking like you'd keel over. Just… keep the sex to a minimum… to zero if you two can swing it. Unless you two are up for a threesome, then we might negotiate."

Stiles gaped at Danny, eyes wide, mouth flopped open. "Seriously?" he squeaked.

Rolling his eyes, Danny pressed Stiles' mouth closed. "No, you dork. I don't want to intrude on your guys' –hopefully- nonexistent sex life as much as I don't want him intruding on ours."

"Oh," Stiles murmured, then grinned. "I'll tell Derek that we can't do stuff like that."

"We'll see how long that lasts," Danny said with a roll of his eyes.

Stiles pressed a kiss to Danny's mouth. "Have a little faith."

…..

Stiles was sitting at the kitchen table in the dark when his father walked through the front door. A bar of light cut across his face and the cookie sticking out of his mouth, but the Sheriff didn't see him. When the door shut, cutting off the light, Stiles said into the darkness, "So, I saw you and Scott's mom at the drive-in earlier. Care to explain why you're so late?" He flipped on an LED flashlight, illuminating the Sheriff's face.

"Shit!" the Sheriff groaned, rubbing at his forehead, "Stiles, what the hell are you doing? You nearly gave me a heart attack, and shut off the flashlight."

" **I'm** asking the questions," Stiles said sternly, but flicked the light towards the light switch.

"I didn't realize you and Danny had gone to the drive-in for your date," Stilinski said, flipping on the kitchen light. He grabbed a beer from the fridge before taking a seat and a cookie.

Stiles pursed his lips. "Avoiding the question. Useful tact, but it won't divert my focus."

"How was your date?" the Sheriff asked anyway, leaning back in his chair, watching his son.

Stiles had been sure to cover any hickeys he'd sustained from Danny and Derek, unlike his father who probably didn't even know of their little purple existence on his neck. "Good, very good, what about yours?" He smiled broadly.

"It wasn't… a date. It was an… outing," Stilinski said slowly, measuring his words, but he was getting flustered, and he couldn't rightly stop that.

"You mean foreplay," Stiles said simply. At the utter shock and internal screaming on his father's face, Stiles laughed. "Kidding, kidding, but honestly Dad, if you and Madame McCall are doing the do and dating, I'm okay with it. You should be happy, and she's an awesome person. It'd be great for Scott to actually be my brother."

"Whoa! Slow down there, Stiles! It was just one date," the Sheriff said quickly, ears coloring with a soft flush.

"Dad, I'm fifteen-years-old, not blind. I know you guys have been seeing each other longer than that," Stiles pointed out, "The house is clean, the cookies, Madame McCall's two and a half hour disappearance… should I go on? Honestly, has she been coming out here every weekend?"

The Sheriff groaned, running his hands down his face. "I don't have to explain myself to anyone, let alone my fifteen-year-old son."

Stiles simply raised an eyebrow at him.

"Fine, have it your way. Yes, we have been seeing each other. Yes, she's been coming out most weekends."

"Really?" Stiles asked, the other eyebrow joining the first, "That was just a wild guess. Wait, how has she been getting over here? She can't be flying each time, and a broomstick only goes so fast."

The Sheriff shook his head. "No, she's been practicing apparating. Still… uh, what is it called, spl- splashing? No. Slicing? No. Uh…"

"Splicing? You almost had it."

"Yeah, that. She still splices herself a lot. I still haven't scrubbed all of the blood out of the entryway carpet from last time." They were quiet, simply surveying each other. "Happy now?"

"Very. A cookie?" Stiles asked, offering his father the plate, one already shoved in his mouth.

The Sheriff reached over, taking a handful before Stiles could slap them out of his hand. "Thanks. So, your date with Danny."

Rolling his eyes, Stiles set the plate down. "I said **a** cookie, not a baker's dozen. And I already told you, it was fine. Jackson didn't try to interrupt us, like the first date we had, and I didn't get turned into a squirrel, like the last date we had."

"Someone turned you into a squirrel?"

Stiles waved his hand through the air nonchalantly. "Some Fifth Year pissed off that Lydia and then I wouldn't help him ace his O.W.L.s, or more rightly, screw him after studying. It's hard being rejected by two very attractive people younger than you in the same day. Contrary to popular belief, ' _It won't suck itself_ ,' is not a proper response to being rejected. Lydia almost turned the guy inside out when she learned that he went to me and pulled that shit. She was **pissed**. It was glorious."

"What kind of school did I send you to?" Stilinski said with just a dash of disbelief.

"A magical one with magical teenage hormones…" Stiles trailed off, worrying at a sleeve cuff. Finally, he blurted, "Dad, if someone cheats on you, do you think you should be pissed at them and break up with them? Or do you think it's possible to forgive them?"

"Did Danny cheat on you?" the Sheriff asked sharply.

"No…" Stiles mumbled, regret and shame pulling his eyes to his hands.

"Did you… cheat on Danny?"

"Yes…" Stiles whispered, voice growing smaller.

The Sheriff closed his eyes, and sighed deeply. "I thought I'd taught you better. If Danny isn't angry with you, I can't do anything about it, but I hope you know I am deeply disappointed in you." Standing, he took his beer and the plate of cookies, and headed for the living room.

"I know," Stiles muttered, staying in his seat and wishing simply that he could rewind the twenty-four hours and reverse what he'd done.

…..

Stiles trudged up to his bedroom, pushing open the door quietly. He slipped through the crack, pressing his back against the door and sliding down it once inside. "My dad hates me," he whispered, pressing his face into his knees. A sob shook his shoulders that he could just barely quiet.

"Stiles?" Derek's whispered suddenly from across the room, climbing through his open window, "Stiles, what's wrong? What happened?"

Lifting his head, Stiles watched through a sheen of tears as Derek moved towards him, the light of the nearly full moon playing across his form. His eyes glowed steel blue, scanning over him in the dark. "Derek," he whispered, chin quavering.

Dropping down in front of him, Derek ran a gentle hand over Stiles' cheek. "What happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, leaning closer.

Stiles bit his lower lip, staring at him. "I'm a terrible person," he whispered, eyes narrowed against the burning of his eyes, "And my father hates me. I don't want him to hate me, but I can't take back what I did. I don't know what to do."

"It's going to be alright, don't worry. I'm sure your father doesn't hate you. He loves you. You're his family," Derek tried to reason, pulling Stiles up and into his arms. He steered them towards the bed, pushing him down to sit.

Stiles shook his head. "You can love your family and not like them at all. You didn't see the look on his face."

"No, I didn't, but if there's one thing I am sure about, it's that your father could never hate you. There is nothing in this world that could make your father hate you."

"You don't know that."

"I do. You just have to trust me on this one, alright?" Derek told him, sitting on the bed beside him, "You should go to sleep. When you wake up in the morning, everything will have blown over. You just need to sleep."

Stiles stared at Derek, unable to stop the tears from slipping down his cheeks. He knew what he should do, but he could already feel his heart breaking. "Derek," he whispered, bringing the other's attention to him, "I think… I think you… I think you need to go."

Derek's eyebrows pulled together, confusion filling his blue eyes. "What? I don't understand. I thought…"

"No, Derek, I- I need you to leave. I can't- I don't want- You shouldn't be here. I'm sorry, but I need you to go," Stiles whispered, voice wavering.

"That… sounded like a lie. Stiles, why are you lying to me?" Derek asked, staring at him, hurt beginning to take over the confusion.

"I'm- I'm not! I'm not lying! I just need you to go!" Stiles sobbed, stumbling up and away from his bed, rubbing away the tears on his cheeks only for more to take their place.

"I don't understand," Derek said, standing and reaching for Stiles.

Stiles jerked away from him. "You don't have to. Leave. Just leave, okay."

Scowling, Derek turned on a heel, climbing out the window. "Fine, whatever, I don't need the truth, see what I care when you wake up screaming."

"Derek," Stiles started, reaching for him, regret forcing him forward.

"No, you want me to leave. I'm leaving. Have a nice summer," Derek growled and was gone.

Stiles dropped to his knees, staring at his window. As his sobs became harder, filling the room, and his father came rushing in, he heard the lonely cry of a wolf in the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's a depressing turn of events that I didn't mean to happen. Yeah… so, see you next chapter. Hopefully it won't take me too long.  
> One question though, do you guys want Allison to come in this upcoming year or in sixth year. I have plans for the both years because I'm not sure which to choose, but my original plan was for her to come in during sixth year.


	11. Heartbreak and the Hales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny does something he doesn't really want to do, and all of the Hales disappear into the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the last chapter if I can't get another one up before Monday. I'll be shipping off to Basic in the next couple days. So if I don't post again before Monday, I'll see you all at the end of November.

"Stiles," Danny said, scratching his quill across his parchment with only minimal interest. He'd already finished his essay for Professor Calavera and had resorted to doodling along the edges, docked grades be damned.

"What's up?" Stiles asked, shoving his second roll of parchment away to start on the last of his homework. He had his feet propped up on Danny's knees and reached blindly for Danny's drink.

Danny looked up, studying Stiles. He pushed his drink towards him, cheek resting in his hand. "Let's go on a date."

"Absolutely. When and where?" Stiles glanced up quickly, throwing Danny a wide, sparkling grin before returning to his homework. He growled derisively at the subject.

"Right now. Hogsmeade."

Stiles fumbled his quill, splattering ink across the table, but somehow missing their parchment. "Like, literally, right now?" he asked, gaping at his boyfriend.

"Yes, just as you are. We'll get cloaks and go," Danny said.

Glancing between his clothes that he'd happily dubbed his hobo attire, baggy sweatpants and a ridiculous crop top that showed off his blindingly white stomach, and his boyfriend who sported a muscle shirt and tight fitting pants, he stammered, "I've been up for thirty-six hours. I took a shower more than twenty-four hours ago. I'm hobo-licious right now."

"That's fine. So am I," Danny said, smiling as Stiles glowered at him, "I've been up with you this entire time, and that shower was shared. It'll be fine."

"Danny, you look like a supermodel no matter what you wear or how long you've seemingly been awake," Stiles pointed out, plucking at his shirt.

"And you look fine." Stiles didn't answer. "If I give you time to brush your teeth and put on a pair of pants, then will you go? I'll get you a peppermint toad from Honeydukes."

Stiles grinned. "Well, if that's the case, let's go!" Gathering their things, he sprinted from the Great Hall, Danny close behind shaking his head.

From across the Hall, Derek watched the pair tear out of the room, grins spread across their faces. Beside him, Scott groaned over his homework. He and Stiles had been separated earlier in the day because they simply couldn't concentrate. Now, Derek was stuck with him, and still managed to listen in on Stiles' conversation.

"Scott," Derek said, turning to the other teen slowly making his way to the floor.

"What?" Scott mumbled, head firmly pressed to the table.

"Let's go to Hogsmeade."

Scott groaned loudly. "But I still have half a roll before I'm done with Professor Calavera's essay," he whined, "And then I have Harris' work and my mom's too. Why do you want to go to Hogsmeade anyway?"

"Just get up and let's go. I'll help you when we get back," Derek shot back, dragging Scott to his feet.

"Ugh, fine!"

…..

"No, seriously, why are we here?" Scott grumbled into his cup of hot chocolate. Derek had laced it with a healthy dose of firewhiskey, and Scott was starting to feel it burn through his body. His pettiness was beginning to come out full force, but he knew that the cuddling would be coming quickly after if he continued drinking.

Derek, from behind a support beam, murmured, "Following Stiles and Danny." He peaked around the beam, watching the pair tramp through an early snow.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Scott complained, leaning around Derek to confirm that that was exactly what they were doing. "Are you fucking kidding me? You know they can see you perfectly fine, right?"

Derek made only a vague noise to indicate that he'd heard Scott speak. Whether he'd comprehended his words or not was a different story. "They're going to the Shrieking Shack. Why does everybody go there?"

"Honestly, why don't you just tell Stiles that you like him and want to bend him over a table? It is literally that easy," Scott groused, following dutifully after Derek to make sure he didn't do something unfailingly stupid.

Derek stopped, turning wide, astonished eyes on Scott. "You don't know? I thought he'd have told you the day after it happened."

"Told me what?" Scott sighed, blinking slowly at him.

"I didn't bend him over a table."

Scott stared back at him blankly. "Okay, what does that have to do with this?"

" **Scott** ," Derek emphasized, glaring at him.

For a long, hazy moment, Scott stared back. Finally, realization clicked almost audibly, his mouth popping open. "Oh! Then what the hell's the problem?! And I thought my dating life was screwed up."

"You don't have a dating life," Derek pointed out, falling further and further behind the happy couple they were trailing.

"You don't know that!" Scott cried loudly enough that it caught Danny and Stiles' attention, pulling them to a stop. Derek dragged Scott into the bushes, pushing his face into the snow to smother his mouth as the pair glanced around.

…..

"It's so pretty out here," Stiles crowed, licking melted chocolate from his fingers and grinning widely. "I could live out here." When Danny stayed silent, he glanced over to him. "Hey, what's the matter?" he asked, bumping hips with him.

Danny sighed, glancing over at Stiles. Turning, he asked straight out, "Stiles, how do you feel about me?"

Eyes going wide, Stiles spluttered, "Well, I really, really, really –I mean pretty seriously- like you. Sometimes, I even think I lo-"

Danny cut him off quickly. "Don't say that," he said sadly.

"Say what? That I think I love you? We've been dating for nearly a year now. I think I have the right to say that," Stiles snapped defensively, worry twisting his insides. If he'd put himself out there just for Danny to tell him that he didn't feel the same way, he didn't know what he'd do.

"No, because you're in love with someone else, not me," Danny told him.

Stiles gaped. "How can you say that? A year, Danny, a fucking year, and you're going to throw that in my face?"

"You know as well as I do that you've been in love with someone else since we started dating, probably even before then. Don't tell me that you aren't."

Stiles quickly snapped his mouth shut, staring at Danny with pleading eyes.

Danny untwisted his fingers from Stiles, and stepped away. "I'm sorry, Stiles, but I can't be with you if your emotions are on someone else."

"Danny, don't do this, please," Stiles whispered, reaching for Danny's hands again. Tears burned the back of his eyes, and he just barely forced down a hiccup.

Pulling further away, Danny shook his head. "No, Stiles, I'm sorry. I just can't do it." Turning quickly before he could change his mind, he left Stiles falling apart and went to find Derek and Scott still arguing in a bush further up the path.

Dragging the unsuspecting Derek up, he slammed him hard against a tree, startling the pair. "Scott, you go comfort your best friend," Danny ordered, never taking his eyes from Derek.

"You knew the whole time?" Scott squeaked, hardly astonished, "I fucking told you, Derek! You can suck it!"

"Scott," Danny snarled, shooting an ugly glare at the other boy.

"Oh, right," Scott mumbled quickly, scurrying away down the path. He took off at a sprint, worry finally seizing him and pushing him toward his best friend.

Danny turned his gaze back to Derek. "I swear to Helga Hufflepuff, if you do not seize this opportunity I just set out for you, I will cut off your manhood, feed it to a dragon, and take Stiles as my wife. Do  **not** fucking tempt me. I just hurt Stiles and myself so that you can make him happy. If you don't, mark my words, I will dish out on my threats. I will do terrible things to you," he snarled.

Releasing Derek's collar, he stormed back towards the castle, intent on drowning himself in alcohol, and coaxing Jackson into playing some very drunk quidditch with him. If they were lucky, one of them would end up in the Hospital Wing by the end of the night. Trying to rub away the heat behind his eyes, he tried not to think of what he might have just caused.

…..

_The night was quiet, cool. The moon rose high in the sky, nearly full, gleaming in all its glory. "Mom, can we go for a run?" Stiles asked, turning to a woman to his right. She had brunette hair falling around her face in thick, soft curls. Her eyes were a startling blue. She looked like the gender bent version of Peter._

" _I don't know, sweetheart," she said, glancing over her shoulder to Talia, "It's up to the alpha if we do or not."_

_Talia pursed her lips, glaring out the window. "I don't think that would be a good idea tonight. I've been smelling hunters for a few hours now. Argents. It's best we stay inside."_

_Stiles glowered at the door, his bottom lip poked out in a pout. "Why can't they just leave us alone? We haven't done anything. Nobody new has been turned. Nobody has died. I don't see why they have to keep trying to hurt us."_

" _Some of the Argents are worse than the others. Some follow a code, and then others don't. Let's just stay inside tonight. We'll take an extra-long run tomorrow," Talia promised him, stepping away from the window, letting the curtains fall shut._

_Talia and the female Peter stepped away, ruffling his hair, moving into the living room._

_Stiles glowered at the door, pulling the curtains aside to glare out into the night. "It's not fair," he grumbled._

_He wasn't expecting the door to be blown open. He jumped back, out of the way of debris, but not quick enough as a thin cord snapped tight around his throat. A howl crawled up his throat passed the wire, ringing through the house._

_A man laughed. "Good, you got a pup." Another wire snapped tight around his wrists, tying them together._

_A woman's voice rose above the man's as he was pulled sharply forward into the face of Kate Argent. "Throw out the ash, make sure the others can't cross."_

" _Micah!" the woman from earlier shouted, slamming against the line of mountain ash. She snarled, her eyes glowing steel blue, claws and fangs raking against the wall. "Give him back to me, bitch!"_

_Kate tsk-ed, shaking her head. "Such bad manners. I would think you'd be kinder since I have one of your pups at my mercy."_

_Talia stood in the doorway to the living room, her eyes crimson, a snarl on her lips. She was already beginning to change. "You will release him." Her words were more animal than human._

" _I think not," Kate laughed, smiling widely. She spun Stiles towards everyone who had gathered against the mountain ash line, all half transformed. She pressed a delicate blade to his throat. "I won't hurt this little crumpet of sunshine as long as every animal in your pack backs up and gets into the basement. Otherwise, I won't hesitate to carve his heart out."_

_The pack stared back at her, hackles raised in challenge. "Into the basement," Talia said, backing slowly towards the door. The rest followed hesitantly after her, ducking into the basement. Talia remained by the open door, hatred in her eyes._

" _Set the next line!" Kate instructed, waiting for the men to throw down the next line before breaking the first and dragging Stiles across is. He hissed and snarled, struggling against her hold, but the cord only tightened around his throat. "Hold still or I will cut your throat," Kate hissed in his ear._

_Stiles stilled in her hold, staring pleadingly at Talia._

" _Get in the basement," Kate instructed, smiling widely at Talia. Glaring fixedly, Talia backed herself down a few steps. Kate broke the line, shoving Stiles through the door at Talia, and set another line. "Let's move out!" she shouted, moving back out the front door._

_Stiles crashed hard into Talia's arms, the breath rushing from his lungs. Talia untangled the wide from his throat and wrists. "What are they going to do to us?" he asked, fear in his voice._

" _I don't know," Talia whispered, pulling him down the stairs._

_The scent of gasoline pressed in on his nostrils, overtaking any other smell. In an instant, flames came to life, rolling down the walls and across the floor. Screams rose high and sudden, overlaid with the laughter of the men and Kate Argent outside._

Stiles woke with a gasp, sweat slicking his skin. He reached out across his crumpled sheets, looking for the other body usually beside him, but his bed was empty. "Fuck," he whispered, scrubbing the back of his hand across his eyes.

What was wrong with his dreams? People being burned to death and transforming into some weird werewolf thing, packs and fucking Kate Argent. Couldn't he finally be rid of her? His skin burned like he'd been burning with them, and his throat and wrists throbbed where the cord had been tied around them.

His eyes popped wide, staring at the ceiling of his bed in shock. "Was that Peter in a dress?" he asked himself too loudly.

To his left, Jackson groaned. "Can't you have one night of full sleep? Go the fuck to bed, Stilinski, and stop spewing nonsense."

…..

"Go away," Stiles whined, bundling himself tighter in his comforter. On his dresser, the tip of his wand released a thick stream of blue smoke, leaving Scott coughing.

Waving away the smoke, Scott choked, "I didn't even know you could do that without even touching your wand. Jesus, you're emotional right now." He paused, slowly smacking his lips, eyebrows firmly pulled together. "It tastes like blueberries. You are messed up right now."

"Go away," Stiles repeated. A hand snaked out from under the covers, flapping it around and slapping at Scott.

"Hey, no need to get violent," Scott laughed.

"Then go away!"

Scott rolled his eyes. "You've been in here for a week. Peter has turned to tormenting Lydia, though that hasn't exactly worked out well for him. Our teachers are wondering how the hell you're still getting your homework done and turned in on time. I actually came in here for something important." He waited to see if that would get a rise out of his best friend, but nothing. "I came in here because Derek is missing."

"Why should I care?" Stiles finally grumbled, tightening the blanket around him like armor against the world.

"Maybe because all of the Hales are missing, not just Derek. Literally, Peter, Malia, Laura, Cora and Derek. They're all missing," Scott pointed out in exasperation.

Stiles sat up straight, blurry, sleep-deprived eyes focusing on his best friend. "Even Malia? What happened? Does anyone know where they might have gone?" he asked frantically, rubbing grit from his eyes.

Scott shook his head. "No, not at all. Today, during the post, they were each delivered an identical letter from the look of it, and after reading it, they all ran out. Malia, Laura and Cora were in tears. Derek and Peter looked pissed. Nobody knows where they are. We need everybody's help to look for them. We've got everybody ready, but you."

Throwing his covers away, Stiles changed into socially acceptable clothing. "I'm going to check the Divination Tower, then the woods! Someone should check the Room of Requirements, I think," Stiles called as he raced from the Slytherin dormitories, booking it toward the tower.

"Where could those idiots have gone?" Stiles mumbled to himself, taking the stairs two at a time. He was halfway up to the tower before he realized that none of them would remotely be anywhere in the castle. "Shit!" he snarled, turning and booking it back down the stairs.

Cora and Malia were most likely hiding somewhere in the woods working out to death, maybe even fighting each other to the death. Peter had probably taken a passageway into Hogsmeade, and immediately apparated to wherever he needed to go. Laura had most likely immediately jumped a broomstick and taken off. Stiles had a feeling that Derek had made his way into the Shrieking Shack to maybe break something.

Stiles groaned with realization. "Oh my fucking- Stupid, stupid Hales," he growled, rushing passed a curious Lydia. "I will strangle-"

"Stiles, where are you going?" Lydia asked on her way to the Room of Requirements, watching him rush towards the grounds of the castle.

"I'm going to go find an idiot before he breaks himself. Cover for me with the teachers if any come asking about me, please."

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Lydia asked indignantly.

"A lovely, lovely witch," Stiles told her with a wide grin, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Lydia called after him as he took off, "Where are Cora, Malia, Peter and Laura?"

"Woods, apparated, broom. Probably. Most likely. I'll be back soon! Hopefully in one piece," he called over his shoulder, disappearing into the approaching night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm sorry that this chapter is short, but I had to wait on some things I want to do more for the next couple chapters. If I don't get another chapter up before Monday, then the next chapter won't be up until the end of November when I get out of Basic. Sorry, guys.


	12. Refusal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek is distraught and Stiles has to go find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back! Bootcamp is finally over and now I'm waiting to class up at A school so we'll see how long that takes. It is so much calmer here.  
> So, I know I said I would try to write during Basic, but that was thrown out the window as soon as I stepped foot on the base. I only got inspiration to write this chapter on my last Sunday there, even though I've been jumping from story to story for the past 9 weeks. Anyway, I've got the chapter, and I'm back now. The only thing is… I don't really remember what all I did in the other chapters, so if there're discrepancies, I'll try to correct them once I read through my chapters again. Have fun with this though! Hopefully it doesn't suck like I feel like it does!

"Derek!" Stiles shouted as he slid beneath the Whomping Willow, stumbling to a stop in the never ending tunnel. His voice echoed back to him, obscuring any noise of a boy breaking himself. A cry rang from his throat as invisible roots brushed across his exposed, feverish skin.

Quieting, he walked slowly, listening for any indication that Derek was tearing the Shrieking Shack to pieces. He didn't know if he was too far away or if Derek simply wasn't there, but he heard only the silence of the dead.

Suddenly, an agonized howl, like that from a wounded wolf, rang down the tunnel, piercing his ears.

"Fuck, shit, hell," Stiles muttered, staring into the darkness, dancing back and forth. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at it. "Do I go? Do I not go? Is getting eaten worth finding out if Derek is down there?" he asked himself.

A more human howl cut him off, bringing his feet to a stop.

Gritting his teeth, he gripped his wand more securely. "God dammit," he whispered, taking off at a dead sprint.

For once since he'd gotten to Hogwarts, his wand was calm and quiet. He could feel his magic growing in his chest, leaking into his blood stream. His mind blurred, only one thought clear in the haze, ' _Get Derek_!'

The growls and howls, screams and shouts grew louder with each step he took until he couldn't hear himself think. They were agonized, wounded sounds, cutting deep furrows into his being. They reverberated through his body, sending shocks and ripples through the growing mass of magic contained within him.

With a flick of his wrist, the door leading into the Shrieking Shack was blown from its hinges, disintegrating into a cloud of dust. Stiles burst through the empty doorway, braced for an attack, wand arm extended straight out and spell already on his lips.

The shack fell eerily silent. Not even a floorboard creaked as the wind howled around the dilapidated building.

Stiles stood still and silent, listening for any indication of another living creature lurking in the shadows. It was easier to see, weak moonlight struggling through cracks and tattered curtains over boarded windows.

The silence dug beneath Stiles' skin, poking at muscles and nerves. A nervous twitch started along the back of his neck. His chest began to tighten little by little, making it a chore to breath.

The howl came again, more animal than human.

Stiles took off up the rickety, barely held together staircase, taking the steps two at a time. He rocketed passed the first landing, heading straight to the top. As he climbed faster and faster, higher and higher, it grew easier to see little by little.

Claw marks and thrown objects marked the path of destruction, leading to the last floor.

Stiles stood on the last landing, staring into the gloom, waiting for the next sign, the next lead of where Derek could possibly be.

Swallowing passed his thickening throat, Stiles took the first step into the massacred hallway. "Derek," he called in a barely there whisper, eyes darting into each dark doorway.

A door at the end of the hall hung open, nearly ripped from the hinges, doorknob crushed into a sad imitation of its former glory. Whimpering spilled from the room, keening and heart wrenching. A howl rose again, rising into the night, wolf-like and so, so lonely.

"Derek," Stiles called louder, approaching the door cautiously, wand only dropped a mere quarter of an inch. "Derek, I know what happened. I know it hurts."

The whimpering quieted, but didn't abate. Sobbing took over, loud, hard.

"Ah, hell," Stiles whispered as he entered the room, taking it in quickly.

Derek had torn the room to shreds. It looked nothing like Stiles supposed it must have. The pillows and bed had been ripped open, feathers thrown every which way. The bed post had been torn apart, wood snapped in half and thrown aside. The curtains and cover had been torn seam from seam. What looked like the remnants of books was spread across the floor, mixing spectacularly with the feathers. The wall paper had been ripped, peeling from the walls.

Huddled in a corner, Derek's back faced the door, shoulders trembling beneath his cloak. A sob choked from his throat.

"Derek," Stiles said again, voice soft, chest loosening. The magic in his veins sizzled and fizzed, unused, but so wishing to be. His fingertips tingled, the magic pushing against his chest. "Derek, I'm so-"

"Why are you here, Stiles?" Derek snarled, hostile, voice hoarse and watery, but entirely too aggressive.

Jerking back as if he'd been slapped, Stiles dropped his wand to his side, tightening his fingers until his knuckles pressed white. "Well, I don't know. Your whole family just disappeared into the fucking nether, and hasn't returned. I don't know, maybe I'm possibly worried about you because you're my friend and I care about you."

"Well, you can go back to the castle, I don't need you here. I don't want you here. You can't do anything about this," Derek bit out, curling further in on himself, "Go away."

Stiles' eyes narrowed, hand tightening until his hand ached with the pressure. "I understand that something really bad must have happened," his mind flashed on the flames raging around him, the burning of his skin. Shaking his head hard, he had to blink quickly to clear his vision. "And I know I probably can't do shit to fix it, but you can't just push me away. I'm here to help you. I'm here to keep you from hurting yourself even more than you probably already have. We're all out after hours looking for every one of you Hales so that you're not alone during this tragedy."

"Nobody asked you guys to do that."

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock, that's the fucking point of having friends. We're there for each other even when we don't think we need someone to help us through," Stiles snapped, his wand flaring dangerously at his side.

"I guess we're not friends then."

"You're a real piece of work, you know that, Hale," Stiles snarled, reverting back to the usual way of referral that floated through the Slytherin house, "I try and I try and I try, and you just blow me off. I don't know why I continue to try, but I do for some reason. Do you understand exactly how infuriating you are? I just want to punch you in the mouth most days, or shove my wand down your throat. Maybe both at the same time. That would be incredibly satisfying."

"Then why don't you do it if you want to so badly?" Derek challenged, fishing for a fight. He loosened his tight posture in preparation for what, Stiles didn't know. He wouldn't duel Derek.

A growl of utter frustration rose in Stiles' throat. "Because you're my friend. Just because you're a dick doesn't mean I'm going to act on my anger. Holy hell, what gave you the idea that any of your friends would ever treat you like that?"

"That's stupid," was Derek's only childish response.

"And so are you," Stiles shot back.

"Stiles, shut the fuck up."

Stiles ground his teeth. "Not until you admit that you need someone here. Just because you've always dealt with everything on your own doesn't mean you'll be able to this time. Why won't you let me help you?" His voice had turned nearly pleading.

"Because you wouldn't understand, so there's no point to you being here," Derek snapped.

Stiles' hackles shot straight up, anger and hurt making him bristle. "Well, maybe if you told me what happened, I would understand. You don't know everything that's happened in my life. You only know part of it, the part that I've had the guts to tell you about."

Derek spun around, springing to his feet. "My family, Stiles! My whole family, my entire pack, is dead!" he screamed, eyes flashing steel blue and fangs protruding from his lips.

Stiles just stared at him, going over every new feature he'd been presented with. Maybe Derek thought his face would scare him off, or maybe he simply couldn't control the transformations. "That's real fucking nice of you. I've lost family too. I lost my mom to the choices of other human beings and my dad to alcohol. I have the possibility of losing my dad every day even after getting him back. I may not know what it feels like to lose my entire family, but I'm pretty damn close."

They stared at each other for several long, silent moments, listening to the wind outside and their own swirling vortex of thoughts. Their eyes bore deep holes into each other, unflinching under the other's gaze.

Slowly, Derek's mask began to slip, revealing the broken fifteen-year-old beneath. Tears gathered in his eyes, ready to spill over at the slightest provocation. His claws and fangs retracted, but his eyes still glowed.

"Stiles," he whispered, throat closing and choked, "They're gone. They're all gone. All of them, and they can never come back." The tears spilled over, making tracks down his cheeks.

Images of Derek's family flashed across his mind's eye. His mother, father, siblings, cousins, uncles and aunts, nieces and nephews. Everyone he'd met just gone in the blink of an eye, erased from existence by a fire and an insane hunter.

Fear twisted in his gut at the thought of his dream. That was how Derek's family had been murdered, he was positive, but what could he do? He wasn't a Seer, no matter what people told him. He was barely passing divination. Why was he so certain of their deaths?

Stiles moved forward, slipping his wand back into his trouser pocket and his arms around Derek's waist. As the space disappeared between their bodies, slowly becoming flush, Stiles could feel his built up magic beginning to seep into Derek's body.

Derek inhaled sharply, breath hitching, shoulders jerking at the contact. His breath hissed out from between clenched teeth, arms tightening around Stiles' thinner frame. "What am I going to do without them?" he whispered, burying his nose in Stiles neck, nuzzling at the soft skin.

"I don't know," Stiles said truthfully, "But we're going to figure it out together."

…..

"How are they doing?" Scott asked, sitting down as quietly as Scott could ever manage, which wasn't very quiet at all.

Stiles turned his face out of his arms, blinking at his best friend blurrily, giving his exhausted brain enough time to process the question. He sighed heavily, tucking his face back against Derek's side where the other slept fitfully along the couch in the Gryffindor common room. "Tired. They're all very tired and emotionally exhausted… but we're going to all be alright eventually, I think."

"Did you guys ever find Peter?"

"No, and we don't care anyway. He's probably out destroying something in anger, or hunting down-" He stopped himself, snapping his mouth shut. No one knew what he knew, and for the time being, no one would know.

Scott was quiet for a moment, glancing at Stiles' and Derek's intertwined fingers. His best friend's knuckles were white where they pressed up against the skin. "How are **you** doing? Tonight was… stressful for all of us."

Stiles sighed again, more heavily than before. "I'm not having as bad of a night as the Hales, but… I'll be better when today is over. I'll be better in a few days, maybe. Tonight was stressful to an entirely new extent, Scottie." His fingers clutched at Derek's as if he would float away if he loosened them even the slightest amount.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Cora and Malia curled close to Laura, pulling the blanket closer around them in a protective cocoon. They lay in front of the fireplace, keeping their puppy pile close and warm.

"Well, if you need anything, I'll be in my bed. If any of you need anything, just come and get me, alright?"

"Thanks, Scottie. See you in the morning."

As Scott disappeared up the stairs, Stiles climbed on the couch, pressing close to Derek's side. It was a tight fit, but like everything else, they'd make it work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, did it suck? Were you highly disappointed with it? Sorry if you were, and sorry that it was so much shorter than the other chapters. I was so sure it was my usual length.  
> If you were waiting for Stiles to freak out over the whole werewolf thing, don't worry, it's coming soon (if he already knows and I just forgot that he does, for the love of everything holy, please tell me!). On that note, I'm thinking about rewriting the first chapter because when I posted it, I actually didn't like it all that much. What do you guys think? I'll be anxiously awaiting your reviews!!


	13. Explaining the Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is still a little short, but I hope it's okay. I've been having trouble finding any creativity in this place, but I'll try my best to keep this story rolling at an acceptable pace.

"Stiles," Derek tried, sitting at Stiles' side on a couch in the Slytherin common room. The enormous area was dark, only lit by the light of the projector. The moon was slowly creeping over the lake's surface, making a valiant, yet vain attempt to provide more light to the reverent students.

"Hold on," Stiles murmured, his quill poised over a roll of blank parchment. He stared at the page, waiting for ingenuity to strike, but his mind was as blank at his paper. Well, not exactly blank as filled to the brim with the face Derek had shown his weeks back. He hadn't been able to purge the image from his mind since then.

How in the ever loving hell had he not realized Derek was a werewolf? There had been a number of signs and phrases thrown around so carelessly that should have tipped him off right away. There had especially been signs from his family members. Were they all werewolves or was Derek just a special case?

"Stiles," Derek tried once more, leaning forward enough to look into Stiles' face. "You've been staring at it for three hours. I'm almost positive whatever you're trying to do is not going to do itself."

"If humans can do themselves, so can homework," Stiles muttered foully, tossing the parchment onto a coffee table filled to the brim with food. Without a spell in his mind, Stiles angrily waved his wand haphazardly at the page. Immediately, his quill picked itself up and began scrawling across the page.

'Derek is a werewolf. Derek is a werewolf. Derek is a werewolf. Derek is a-'

Stiles let out a cry of surprise, flicking his wand again. The parchment ignited, flaring bright, throwing orange light across the closest students before shriveling into a black pile of ash, leaving behind a small, barely noticeable scorch mark. His breath came hard, ragged and shocked. He couldn't meet Derek's eyes.

With a sigh, Derek stood, offering his hand to Stiles. "Come on, I have to explain a few things to you, I supposed," he murmured, ignoring the stares boring into their bodies.

He could feel Scott's and Madame McCall's careful gazes, nearly identical in their intensity and concern. He could feel Danny's approving, yet pointed, gaze, watching for any mistakes by Derek or distress on Stiles' part. Malia, Cora, Laura and Lydia watched, waiting patiently for his next move.

Despite his cautious attitude over the last few weeks, he took Derek's hand without hesitation, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He was guided from the filled room, oblivious to the eyes following their exit.

They were out on the grounds before Stiles knew truly what was happening. They were lit by the pearly light of the full moon, washed white, shadows more stark than usual.

"Where are we going?" Stiles whispered, as if he spoke any louder his voice would wake things he'd rather leave asleep.

"The Shrieking Shack," Derek replied just as quietly, leading him on a longer path than Stiles usually took to get there.

A shudder ran through Stiles' body. "Why are we going there?"

Last he remembered of the Shrieking Shack was being clung to by a sobbing werewolf and nearly passing out as they maneuvered their way to the Gryffindor common room. He could still see the house torn to shreds, the glint of Derek's fangs and claws, the flash of his steal blue eyes.

"Just around there. I don't… want to go inside," Derek muttered, eyes turned pointedly away from the rising moon, "It's more secluded. Less possibility of being seen."

"You make it sound like we're going to go make out or maybe do it in the woods," Stiles laughed, making a stab at lightening the mood.

Derek glanced over his shoulder, a small smirk firmly in place. "Only if you want to."

Stiles' cheeks flared red, staining his cheekbones and slowly crawling towards his ears. He stammered an incoherent reply, stumbling over his own feet in his haste to get his mind working again.

Pulling him steadily along, Derek kept him squarely on his feet and on the correct path. He led Stiles, the moon climbing higher and higher into the dark sky. They skirted through the woods, moving around the Shrieking Shack, deep into the forest. They came to a stop when they could see neither the castle nor the lights of Hogsmede.

Derek untangled his fingers from Stiles'.

Stiles watched him with cautious, yet altogether, curious eyes. His eyes followed him as he set enough distance between the two of them that Stiles could protect himself if needed. He was sure he wouldn't need to.

"I know you already know about me, obviously from that…" he trailed off, pain slicing across his features, "But I wanted to explain everything to you myself. I've wanted to tell you for a while now. Laura finally agreed. She said that it was only right that everything get explained to you, especially because you were so tangled in our family already."

Stiles remained quiet, letting Derek work his way through his thoughts without interruption or distraction. His mind whirred, shifting through his own thoughts at a pace that had him feeling slightly dizzy. He wondered if his mother and Talia's relationship would finally start to make sense now, or if he'd start to understand why Talia had given him his mother's ring before he was ready.

Sighing, Derek slowly started to pace before Stiles, running his fingers through his hair, twisting them together. His eyes found the still rising moon, his body flinching in response to the soft light that ran along his skin. A heavy breath fell from his lips, hands quivering.

"You already know that I'm a werewolf. I wanted to… **show** you that part of me while I'm in control, the part that consists more of the wolf than myself. The wolf is always with me, but its more at the forefront when I shift," Derek explained, "I'm probably not making any sense."

"Not really," Stiles agreed before grinning, "Good thing I found some stuff to study up on you guys. So, I'm not an expert, but I'm not completely ignorant either."

"You'll wish you were soon," Derek muttered, looking up at the moon. He didn't flinch away from its light this time. Instead, he allowed it to change him.

Stiles watched in something akin to fascination as Derek's features changed. Slowly -or what Stiles felt was slow, but could have honestly been the speed of light for all he knew- Derek grew actual facial hair instead of the peach fuzz Stiles had be trying to cultivate. His canines grew long and wickedly pointed, protruding past his lips. When he found Stiles' eyes again, his eyes were glowing that steel blue he had become accustomed to and his nails were sharpened to thick points.

"This is… the other side of me," Derek said, spreading his hands over himself. He was silent for a moment. "Are you scared?"

Shaking his head, Stiles grinned. "Not at all, and I'm sure you'd be able to tell anyway. Now, if you were attacking me or doing something equally as horrifying, then maybe, but you're calm and collected, like you usually aren't. What do I have to be afraid of?"

"The knowledge that I'm a monster."

Stiles blinked despairingly at him. "You're not a monster. Kate, she's a monster. Murderers, they are monsters. People who were born different are not monsters. No one is a monster until they've proven that they are," he told Derek.

"You don't understand. I killed-" Derek cut himself off quickly, stumbling back.

"Derek," Stiles started, moving towards him, but Derek threw out his hand in warning, arm trembling.

He shook his head hard. "Don't come any closer, Stiles! I don't know what's happening!"

' _Oh fuck_ ,' Stiles thought, watching helplessly as Derek hunched forward in agony, his body contorting and shrinking. Bones cracked loudly, echoing through the forest and muscles snapped. With each noise, Stiles flinched, his stomach tying itself in ever tighter knots.

All at once, the forest fell silent, Derek lying in a crumpled heap on the mossy floor, Stiles dancing from foot to foot, unsure of what to do next. He danced closer, peering at Derek with terrified eyes.

"Derek," he whispered fearfully, taking another step forward.

The heap shuffled, clothes falling from an onyx body. Derek stood on all fours, his hands now paws, his body thin and lethal. His face had elongated into an elegant snout, those familiar blue eyes peering at him from the face of a wolf. Behind him, a ridiculously luscious tail swished from side to side.

Swallowing, Stiles whispered, "Derek, is that you?"

Grinning, the wolf barked a reply.

"Oh, sweet baby Jesus," Stiles groaned, running his hands through his hair and staring up through the canopy of branches to the night sky. Glancing back at Derek, he shouted, "Oh fuck!"

The wolf cocked its head to the side quizzically, eyeing Stiles curiously.

"Do not give me that look telling me I'm crazy," Stiles snapped, pointing a finger at the wolf, "Do you even realize what happened? Or has it completely slipped your notice?"

The head cock again. A twitch of an ear.

"You're a wolf, Derek! You're the animal now! I know you can't look at yourself, but can't you at least feel it? Your junk is just out in the wind for Merlin's sake!" He gestured wildly as if that would help the wolf Derek had become understand.

The wolf's mouth seemed to turn down in a frown. Experimentally, he twitched his ears, turned his tail in a wide circle, scratched at the ground. Horror grew in the creatures' eyes. He barked frantically at Stiles, jumping from side to side, like he wasn't entirely sure what to do in his new body.

"Whoa, calm down there or you're going to hurt one of us. That would seriously suck," Stiles tried to reason, raising his hands in an attempt to calm him. When Derek had settled into agitated pacing, Stiles asked, "Maybe we should go talk to Laura?"

It was only a simple suggestion.

Derek turned even more horrified eyes on Stiles, releasing several barks of adamant refusal. He made a sound that sounded something close to a mock of his sister's high laughter before snapping his teeth aggressively.

Stiles dropped his hands onto his bony hips. "Well, if you can't figure out how to change back, we're going to **have** to go see Laura," he pointed out.

This time Derek growled low and threatening and dangerous in the back of his throat.

"Oh, don't you dare growl at me or I will not hesitate to transfigure you into the fluffiest mother fucking kitten," Stiles snarled right back.

Derek glowered at him gloomily, but made no more indication of hostility.

…..

Laura sat on the arm of the couch in the Gryffindor common room, a quivering hand pressed over her most definitely grinning lips. "You're telling me that you came all this way looking like that?" she asked, her voice wavering with her laughter.

Her eyes slid over the clothes tucked away at Stiles' side and the leash attached to a studded leather collar circled around her brother's throat.

Derek snarled, glaring ferociously at her.

"No need to glare at me so harshly," she reprimanded, the effect diminished by the giggles coming through her voice. They peeled out of her throat, refusing to be held at bay, quickly transforming into loud guffaws of laughter.

"Yes, we did," Stiles sighed, wondering exactly how they must look. "Can you help us with this or will I have to try transfiguring him back?"

Laura rolled her eyes. "Of course I can help him. Obviously I'd have to be able to or I wouldn't be here myself."

"Wait! You can turn into a wolf too?" Stiles cried, earning a harsh shush and bark from the Hale siblings. He quieted immediately. "Is everyone in your family a fucking werewolf?"

Shrugging, Laura said, "Mostly. There are a few humans. Most of the werewolves can't completely shift though. So far, Mom, Malia, myself, and now Derek are the only ones who can do it out of the entire pack. Mom still hasn't explained why that is to me."

Stiles frowned at the thought that they weren't speaking of the Hale pack in the past tense, as if denial would mean they were still alive and well. Then another thought crossed his mind. "Oh my god! Does that mean everyone in the house heard… over summer…?"

"And smelled."

An indescribable noise of embarrassment fell from Stiles mouth, heat coursing across his feet and over his neck. "Why didn't you tell me?!" he shot accusingly at Derek.

He only glared back.

"Just- Just get him back so I can tear him a new one about this!" Stiles screeched, shoving a finger at the wolf.

"Anything for you, darling," Laura said. With a simple whisper in Derek's ear that Stiles was almost positive was something dirty, he returned to his human body, mortification and embarrassment painted across his face as he grabbed his clothes from Stiles, and jerked them on. He ripped the collar from around his neck. Laughing, Laura left the common room, headed back for the Slytherin common room. "Have fun, you two! Use protection!"

"Laura!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not as long as my usual chapters, but I think it might take me a little bit to get back up to my old word count. For now, I hope this chapter was not ridiculously terrible. I got classed up for firefighting for Monday, so I won't have time to write then, but I'll get writing soon.


	14. Death of the Forest

"Derek," Stiles sang, landing on Derek's bed heavily. He'd been gone from the bed for no more than twenty minutes, if that, and somehow he was dressed, bright eyed and bushy tailed. "Do you know what day it is?"

Derek glared at him unenthusiastically. "Saturday?" he grumbled under the edge of his comforter.

"Yes! And do you know what happens on Saturday?" he asked brightly, grinning ever wider.

"People actually sleep in?" Derek replied.

Stiles pursed his lips, unimpressed. "Well, that. Stop being a smartass. Do you know what people who actually like doing shit do on the weekends?"

Sighing, Derek asked, "What?"

Grinning, Stiles jumped to his feet, throwing his arms into the air. "Dancing!" he cried, "I'm going to teach you guys how to swing!"

"No, you are not," Derek shot back, rolling away from Stiles, pulling the covers back over his head.

"Oh, yes I am," Stiles grunted, rolling him out of his comforter burrito and onto the cold, unforgiving stones.

"I hate you."

"Love you too, sweetie."

…..

"What in the holy fuck are you and Martin doing? And what is this horrendous music you have playing?" Cora snarled, her long hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, irritation written in the vodka induced bags beneath her eyes, similar to the way Derek was watching them.

Laura watched with a wide grin, attempting to move to the music, but her body was inadapt for the movements that went with the rhythm.

Lydia, her painted and glossed mouth pursed in a vicious smile, her lean muscles flexing, tried to throw Stiles into a wall, jerking hard at his wrists. He pulled back just as hard, pulling her into his side. They went back and forth, hard and endangering and enthusiastic.

Coming to a halt at the end of the song, chests heaving, they grinned at each other. "It's swing music. I told you, I'm going to teach you how to swing. Lydia's going to help me. I learned how to from my mom." His smile dropped for the barest of a moment before replacing itself in an instant.

"I am now, am I?" Lydia wondered, raising an eyebrow, but there was no refusal in her expression. She planted her hands on her hips, looking over the trio before turning her eyes back to her dance partner.

"Yes," Stiles confirmed with a short nod. "Swing is actually a really athletic dance, but that shouldn't be a problem for the three of you. It's not supposed to be violent like the way Lydia and I were dancing, but… Anyway, it's supposed to be fun and difficult and challenging, but mostly fun because you get to throw people, safely when they're not us though. I don't know if you know what I mean by throwing, but it does not literally mean throwing. It's like throwing them around your body, pulling them through your legs. So don't actually throw each other."

Cora's doubt and consternation cleared from her face. "Oh, hell yeah, I am so there." She jerked her T-shirt over her head, revealing a sports bra beneath. "Let's go, Stilinski. I'm going to show you how much of a pansy you are."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not Jackson," Stiles shot back as they crashed into each other, ignoring the eye roll turned his way. He took the lead, refusing to allow Cora the lead to hurt them because she most definitely would with too much leeway. He guided her into the dance effortlessly, demonstrating the dance to her without words.

Shrugging, Laura and Lydia grabbed each other's hands, Lydia instructing under her breath, going at a sane pace compared to their counterparts. Cora and Stiles were harsh, fighting tooth and nail for lead.

"All four of you are stupid. Well, three of you," Derek corrected quickly at Lydia's raised eyebrow. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up with an extra limb, or possibly a missing one. Despite the clearly false rumors, Ravenclaw could be a very vengeful group of bookworms, their smarts making them all the more dangerous

"But it's so much fun!" Stiles shouted over the song, a bite of pain to his words as he switched partners, Cora jerking on his arms as she took Lydia's hand. He took Laura's hand with something close to fear. She would not let him take the lead so easily.

Laura laughed, releasing Stiles' hands before they could even get started. She shoved Derek towards him, sitting on the arm of one of the many couches with a grin. "Dance! Be merry! Do something for once. Don't hurt him tiger." She shot the last at Stiles, grinning widely.

Grinning right back, Stiles pressed a quick kiss to Derek's frowning lips before snatching up his rather unwilling hands. He was a surprisingly patient teacher. Unlike his savage teaching with Cora, or his vicious dancing with Lydia, he took his time with Derek. He felt out the flexibility and strength of Derek's body in a way he hadn't really gotten to in all their dances before. Really, he was reveling mostly in the feel of Derek's body against his, their hands locked together.

It helped that Derek was learning fast. He took the lead from Stiles in one fell swoop, plucking it from his fingers and making it his own.

If he'd gotten the chance, Stiles would have fought with everything he had to take the lead back. As Laura would have it though, she neatly tore the pair apart as you would an orange, and inserted herself as Derek's partner, flashing wicked canines.

Stiles sat down heavily on a couch, watching the two sets dance around each other, one perfectly in rhythm with the music and the other two tugging too aggressively at the lead to care.

Stiles and Lydia were dosing on the couch, leaning heavily against each other, when twin cried startled them awake. Quickly following, the sound of cracking stone and shattering wood filled the common room.

Blinking awake, groaning irately, the pair glared at the trio.

Laura had her hands pressed over her mouth, surprised laughter shaking her shoulders. Derek sat on the floor against the wall, rubbing the back of his head. The wall behind him had a sizable crack and indent now decorating it. Cora, dazed, but unharmed, lay on a pile of splintered wood that used to be a coffee table, surrounded by miraculously unbroken lanterns. They were meant for something the seventh years were planning for the end of the year, and the seventh years had obviously taken precautions for their safety.

Laughter still on her lips, Laura looked to the still sleepy pair. "I accidentally threw them too hard."

"You're not supposed to literally throw them," Lydia sighed.

"Never, I am never dancing with you," Stiles told her, shaking his head in disbelief.

From the stairwell, Malia stared at the five, no amusement on her face. "You are all really fucking loud, I hope you know that. Now, I'm going back to bed before you start explaining to me what the hell this all is." Turning on a heel, she disappeared up the stairs.

…..

"Come on, Derek. It'll be fun," Stiles coaxed pleadingly. He was stretched out along Derek's torso, chin resting on his sternum, amber eyes staring up into the blue-green-hazel eyes, or whatever they were. He fought the urge to climb up further and steal a kiss.

"You wouldn't be able to keep up, plus you'd pass out before I would even be getting tired," Derek told him, trying to ignore the insults and chattering filling the common room around them. It was movie night, but it wasn't exactly movie time, so the Slytherin common room was packed to the gills with students who didn't know how to whisper.

Someone wolf-whistled followed by a, "Just kiss already!"

Rolling his eyes, Stiles shouted, "Go get a sex life of your own, Ethan! Doesn't Danny have his bed open for you? Go fuck him for the love of everyone else's sanity!"

"I already did that today!" Ethan shouted back.

"Then stop being a hormonal teenager!" Sighing, Stiles looked back to Derek. "Sorry, you were saying?"

"There's no reason to go for a run. Plus, it's nearly after curfew now," Derek pointed out.

Stiles frowned, poking out his bottom lip in a childish pout. "That's never stopped us before, and anyway, I'd ride my broom. I'm not stupid enough to try and keep up with your six minute mile and a half." His voice dropped to a whisper, "Plus, it's the full moon tonight. You're going to be restless no matter what I do."

"You shouldn't be saying that with so many people around," Derek told him, glaring around at the surrounding mass of idiots.

Stiles grinned. "That's why I'm whispered. If it's a problem, let's go outside into the Forbidden Forest. Come on." He pushed himself off of Derek, dragging him to his feet. "Let's go. Let's go." With a flick of his wand, the projector booted up and the credits began rolling.

Without as much hesitation as he'd been spouting, Derek allowed Stiles to pull him away from their couch.

…..

Stiles let out a scream of joy, racing through the silent, still trees. The moon shone bright and full through the high, high leaves, painting the forest floor with splotches of moonlight. Derek's eyes flashed blue in the night, reveling in the freedom the forest provided him. No student, at least no sane student, would venture into the Forbidden Forest after dark, providing them with an amount of privacy that could be found nowhere in the castle.

Skidding to a halt, sending dry leaves into the air around him, Derek threw back his head, howling for his mistress. Flying in a circle around him, Stiles laughed, letting off his own less than stellar howl.

A howl answered theirs, long, high and keening. A howl of pain, agony. A howl calling for help. It was a howl that sounded vaguely familiar to Stiles' tone deaf ears.

Derek's eyes grew wide with horror. "Laura!" he shouted, taking off at a dead sprint, digging his bare feet into the ground beneath him, pushing himself forward with all his strength. As he rushed through the forest, darting around menacing pools of darkness, through patches of moonlight, he answered her call.

Shocked to stillness for the space of a heartbeat, enough time for Derek to disappear from his sight, Stiles listened to the agonized howl ring in his ears. A scream, high and piercing, sounded in the night, overshadowing both wolves. That scream was startlingly familiar, like the howl had been, only this time he could pick out exactly who it belonged to. "Lydia!" he called, finally broken from his spell.

It took Stiles only a moment to catch up to Derek, his wand already sparking in his readied palm. A spell was forming at the edge of his mind, dangerous, explosive. He trailed after Derek, knowing he would hone in on the pair in a matter of moments.

Another scream, higher than before, more terrified, rang deafeningly through the air, Laura's name on its edges. Another howl answered, cut off only halfway through.

"Laura!" Derek screamed, his cry more of a howl. He nearly tripped over Lydia's body as they flew between a pair of trees.

Jumping from his broom without even slowing, wand flying from his hand as he landed, Stiles scrambled towards her. "Lydia! Oh god, Lydia!" Stiles shouted desperately, his eyes wide, his mind frantic. Even from where he crouched, he could see the steady gush of liquid from his wand's tip. Where the liquid spilled, smoke rose in thick, noxious plumes.

Lydia's side was a bloody mass of torn flesh. Thick, crimson liquid poured over Stiles fingers as he pressed his palms into her side, attempting to stem the flow. He could feel her pulse through her side, quick as a mouse's breath, light as a feather's touch. His eyes were so focused on her, he didn't see the other body not thirty paces away.

A low, keening whine broke Stiles from his frantic check of the girl before him. Hands still pressed to her side, he turned slowly to find Derek crouched over the other body. The whine came again, broken by a more human sob.

"Derek?" Stiles questioned tentatively, afraid to approach this raw, choking creature as much as he was afraid to leave Lydia's side.

A howl turned scream rolled from Derek's body, tears coursing down his cheeks. His body rippled with the effort to remain human, the more animal part of him forcing its way to the surface. He burst from his clothing, a long black muzzle rising to the sky to sing his sorrows. Leaving the tatters of his clothing behind, wand still sticking out of his back pocket, Derek darted into the forest, digging his paws into the soft dirt, throwing himself forward into darkness.

Laura's dead eyes stared back at Stiles, her pale, naked skin gleaming in the moonlight. Her throat had been torn open, her blood painting her body crimson. A rainbow circled off her skin, emitted by what smelt like gasoline. The worst part, though, was the cauterized ends of her body where she'd been torn in half at the waist, the skin blackened and burnt.

Stiles had never thought of himself as all that young. He'd always felt older than all the others somehow. In that moment, as his scream rose high and thin in the night, he seemed painfully aware of the fact that he was merely fifteen-years-old.

…..

Hours later, after Stiles had sent up distress flares and they'd found the bodies, after Lydia had been taken to the Hospital Wing for Madame McCall to work her magic, and the Ministry had come to collect Laura's body for the few hours they would need it, Derek stumbled into his dorm. He was shivering, body fighting to remain human. Sweat slicked down his body, his skin pale and naked. Dirt crowded the space beneath his nails and coated the pads of his hands and feet.

He finds Stiles, eyes haunted and blank, hair still damp from a shower that did him no good, sitting in Derek's bed, knees pulled up to his chin, arms wrapped around them. Scott lay at his side, a frown curving down his lips, his body tense in unsettling dreams headed for nightmares.

"Stiles," Derek whispered miserably, falling to his knees at the bedside, his legs unable to hold his sorrow any longer.

Stiles' eyes turned to him, slow as molasses. "She's dead," he whispered, voice hoarse from screaming, "And Lydia might die too. Why? Why did this happen? Who could do this?"

"I don't know," Derek tells him truthfully, his own voice rough, still animalistic, "I don't know."

"They took her body. The Ministry. They said they would try to find clues. They're imbeciles. They won't find anything they'll understand." For a moment, Stiles' voice had become harsh with spitting hatred. "Just like when my mother died. They should have left her here. They had no right."

Derek's eyes flashed crimson before fading back to hazel. "No, they didn't. Let's hope they are too stupid to realize…"

With a nod, Stiles took Derek's face in his hands, kissing him softly, urgently. He slid almost silently from the bed, pulling Derek towards the showers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this was supposed to be like twice as long, but I waited too long to write it, so this is what happened. I gleaned several plot points from this though, so here's to hoping the next will actually be back to regular length. Also, sorry I've been gone for two months. I didn't forget about this, I just… had no motivation to write the next chapter. Actually, I had no motivation to write at all. Lately though, I've been writing all the time. My imagination is slowly being revived.


	15. A Story to Tell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Per usual, I own nothing to speak of.

Lydia stared at the ceiling of the Hospital Wing, eyes vacant, body limp, but flinching at ever small noise that reverberated through the huge room. Her side was a mass of bandages, blood seeping through the white gauze even though Madame McCall had worked tirelessly for hours to find a spell that would stitch her skin back together. It refused her magic in every possible way, pulsing and oozing as if venom forced the wound to stay wide.

Bumbling around, Melissa kept all unnecessary occupants from the room. She kept it as quiet as possible so Lydia wouldn't go off again. A few hours after Melissa had settled her into bed, another student had started to kick his bed with all his force to bring feeling back to his magically numbed leg. Melissa could have killed both him and the fifth year that had cast the charm. Lydia had started screaming with all her force, kicking from the bed and shooting spells off in every direction, shattering glasses and dismantling cots.

It had taken Stiles, dead eyed, Scott, horrified, Melissa and Deaton to stop her, and get her back into bed. Even after that, Stiles had had to whisper softly to her for an hour before she'd fully calmed down enough for Madame McCall to dress her wounds again and pry her wand from her fingers.

Quietly entering the room, Stiles found his way to Lydia's bedside, taking his place in the chair that was usually filled by either Stiles, Danny, Jackson or one of the others in their ragtag group of friends. Even Derek took his turn keeping her company. It was strange to find the spot empty, but really, what was normal about the whole situation in the first place?

Leaning forward gingerly, he slid a small cup of vanilla pudding that he'd stolen from the Great Hall onto the table tray. Next to it, he placed a chocolate frog. "I thought you might want something sweet," Stiles muttered, sitting back.

Lydia's eyes fell on the sweets, but hardly focused. Reaching out, she pulled the bowl towards her, wincing as the movement pulled at the bite wounds. They sat in silence while she methodically sucked pudding from the spoon. It'd only been a few moments before she spoke around the spoon. "Laura was the one who bit me," she told him, eyes still dull, voice without inflection.

Stiles looked at her, eyes as unsurprised as his voice when he spoke. "What do you mean?" Somehow, after everything that had happened, after the death of the Hale pack and now Laura's death, Derek's new alpha status and Lydia's near death, nothing could surprise him.

"Laura, she was the one who bit me. She invited me to take a walk, asking if I could help her with a problem in the Forbidden Forest. I didn't question it because I'd helped her a few times before. She started asking me all these different questions about me and my relationships to everyone and my life. She told me I didn't smell as human as I looked, but not as different as you. Before I could ask her to explain she had gone on high alert," Lydia told Stiles slowly, fiddling with the chocolate frog, "One moment we were standing there, and the next, we were getting attacked. She was tumbling around with someone… **something** with crimson eyes. She… she changed into a wolf with the same red eyes, and that's when she bit me."

Lydia paused, staring more through the chocolate frog than at it. "The other thing stopped attacking for some reason, and Laura let go of me. It was like she was marking territory. Then, a fire whip shot between them. None of us knew who cast it. I'd pulled out my wand, ready to defend us, even the creature that'd been attacking us, but a sectumsempra curse tore the other thing's side open, and then, before any of us could run, the fire whip tore Laura in half."

She was quiet for a moment, shuddering as she remembered the way Laura's body had fallen back to the ground, human again, how her dead eyes had stared at her. Tears pushed at the edges of her lashes, looking for a release that Lydia would not allow. Even broken, she was too proud to cry. "I think the pain and shock made me pass out because when I came to, Kate and Gerrard were pouring lighter fluid all over her body. At least, I think it was lighter fluid. It smelled like it. You guys turned up before they could do anything more, but do you think… do you think they killed her? She was only a teenager like us. How could they do that? How could someone murder someone so young?"

"There's a strong possibility that they did kill her," Stiles whispered, bile rising in his throat, "They're sick people who hunt and kill things because they are not like us, because they're not human even though they act more human than the Argents ever have."

"According to Laura, we're not as human as we thought," Lydia said, finally focusing on him, "What was she? Was she –and are the rest of the Hales- …werewolves?"

Before Stiles could answer, Cora slipped into the room, her chest heaving, cheeks a ruddy mess, hair a tangled monstrosity flowing down her back. "Stiles-" she coughed, bending to press her hands to her knees. "Derek- Can't- Hold- Going- Crazy-" she huffed in gasping breaths, "Need- Help-"

Stiles didn't even want to know what had happened to put Cora, of all people, in the state she was in. Jumping to his feet, he paused, glancing to Lydia guiltily. He could only be in one place at a time.

Rolling her eyes, Lydia waved him off. "Go deal with your boyfriend. Cora, stay with me?" she asked, looking more hopeful than Stiles had ever seen her look.

Straightening and sucking in a breath, she nodded. "Sure," Cora said, "He's out by… Laura's cabin…" She dropped her eyes to her feet, scuffing her tennis shoes against the stones.

Stiles nodded, turning back to Lydia one last time. "Are you sure this is okay? Do you want me to bring you back something?"

She waved him off. "Go before Derek breaks something or someone," Lydia intoned, "Well, breaks more things." She patted the bed beside her for Cora to perch on. She summoned a comb, brush and perfume, and set to work on Cora's hair.

Needing no further push, Stiles turned, and bolted from the room.

…..

The screams of sorrow and pain that slammed against Stiles' ears had his body moving faster than he usually would. He skidded through the muddy fields, eyes focused on the roaring bonfire beside Laura's cabin. Shadows cast by the flames dances through the night. Slipping, dropping into the mud, Stiles scrambled up, tripping several more times before he made it to the fire.

"Derek!" he called, stopping as he stared at the belongings burning in the fire. Books and chairs and clothing all turned to ashes alongside each other. "Derek, stop!" He rushed forward as Derek stormed out with a photo album held high over his head, a scream on his lips and tears on his cheeks.

Derek's eyes flashed crimson, his body rippling with the effort to remain human, the album tumbling from his fingers. Photos snaked out from between the pages, slipping across the damp grass. Laura's and their families' and her friends' smiling faces glinted up at them in the roiling firelight.

Derek's fingers curled, his shoulders hunching and face elongating into a snout. Throwing his head back with a cry of agony, he fought against the transformation, something Stiles was positive he was not supposed to be attempting, not as a new alpha, not with the ability so fresh in his bones that every movement ached, not with his emotions running wild and rampant through his body.

"Derek," Stiles whispered, stepping without fear towards the boy more wolf than wizard. Grabbing his face and holding onto him as he tried to jerk away from Stiles' touch, he ran his thumbs over the moist skin of his cheeks. "You're fine. I know it hurts now, I know it will hurt for a long time, but it will get better, eventually it will get better. It always gets better."

Even as he spoke, his magic slid over Derek's skin, stilling him into silent agony. The crimson drained from his eyes, taking every ounce of energy he possessed with the color. He collapsed forward onto his knees, wrapping trembling arms around Stiles' waist, pressing his face into Stiles' stomach.

Sighing, Stiles turned his face towards the storm darkened sky, fingers carding through Derek's hair. This was something new that they'd found had come with Derek's new alpha status. As much as he could rage and snarl, leak power and magic, Stiles could calm him with a simple touch, reigning everything in until Derek was just a trembling mess of a boy.

He hadn't tried it with any of the other wolves they knew yet, though Cora always did seem calmer in his presence. Likewise, Malia and Peter seemed even more drawn to him than before, even if Peter, grudgingly and to Stiles' delight, backed off of his creepiness.

Sensing in some strange way, maybe in the stiffening of Derek's body, that there was someone hurtling towards them at top speed, Stiles' dropped his eyes to the line of the Forbidden Forest. In moments, a coyote with fur sticking up at every angle and sticky with blood flew from the tree line. Its familiar hazel eyes were wild, focusing on Stiles.

With quick, sure strides it approached them. One moment, the coyote was loping towards them, and in the next, Malia, naked as a newborn, strode towards them. "Stiles, Derek!" she shouted, her words just as wild as her eyes.

Heat rushed up Stiles' neck, burning his ears and cheekbones. Forcing his eyes to remain glued to her face, he called, "You can do a full transformation too? Since when?"

"Since always," Malia snapped, waiting impatiently as Derek rose to his feet, "That's not why I'm here. I need your help. Like, right now."

"You smell of blood and…" Derek's eyes narrowed, nose wrinkling with distaste, "Another alpha. Did you get into a fight? Are you hurt?"

"Yes and not as much as the alpha, I can say that much. I need your help though. He's hurt pretty badly, and I can't carry him on my own. I've already tried. He's too heavy, and he's all dead weight right now. If I wasn't hurt, I'd be able to manage it no problem, but I am, so…"

"Wait, hold on, back up. Who are you talking about? Who's hurt?" Stiles asked, trying desperately to keep up with her rapid speech.

Derek's eyes grew wide. The pair spoke at the same time, "Scott."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think… that this may well be my shortest chapter to date for this story. Definitely the shortest. I haven't written something this short for maybe a year now. That's weird to think about. So, sorry for the length, sorry that I'm a terrible person/shitbag and don't post more frequently. I'd say I'd try to improve on that, but we all know that is a blatant lie.
> 
> P.S. – I'm probably going to pull my happy little usual trick and pull a pairing out of thin air for my own amusement. I don't know where it came from or how it came to be, but it should pop up in the next few chapters or so.


	16. Headed Home

Stiles laughed nervously, digging his nails into the arms of his chair. "It'll be fine. Everything will be fine. We'll figure this out over summer break and then you guys won't be blood thirsty beasts on the full moon trying to tear out my spleen. Derek will teach you all the wolfy techniques and such, and everything will be Gucci."

"Stiles, don't ever say that again," Lydia muttered with a roll of her eyes, curled into an armchair. She was still recovering from the bite in her side, but the wound had since faded into a puckered pink scar that took over most of her side. No matter what Madame McCall did, she could not smooth the scar into something less intimidating. Cora sat on the arm of her chair, looking over the rest of the group with watchful eyes.

"Sorry," Stiles laughed too loudly, his voice echoing from the far corners of the deserted Slytherin common room. Everyone that would usually be filling the vast space was off enjoying their last day across the campus, saying their goodbyes and making out for one last time. "Anyway, how does that sound, Derek?"

Derek looked away guiltily from where he sat beside Cora in the armchair across from Stiles, rubbing at his arm. He refused to meet Stiles eyes.

Stiles' chest tightened with misgiving. "Derek?"

"Stiles, we're –Cora and I- are not going back to Beacon Hills this summer," Derek murmured, ignoring the holes boring into his side from every member of the pack.

…..

_"Scott, what happened to you?" Stiles shouted, stumbling after Derek as they nearly tripped over Scott's prone body. Dropping down beside his best friend, he shook Scott gently, recoiling at the blood coating his fingers. "Holy shit, he's bleeding a lot! Derek, we need to get him to Melissa now!"_

_"Yeah, I get that Stiles, but Malia and I can't do that with you leaning over him freaking out!" Derek snapped sarcastically._

_Stiles shot a glare up at him. "Well, that didn't last long," he muttered._

_"Enough with the lover's spat," Malia interceded with a roll of her eyes, limping around Stiles' other side, "Are we going to wait around for that alpha to come back and finish us off, or are we going to get Scott to the Hospital Wing?"_

_Sighing and damping down on their sudden animosity, Derek and Stiles muttered together, "The Hospital Wing."_

_When they were finally on their way back up to the castle, Malia loping along beside them, Derek asked, "Do you know who the other alpha was? Was if Peter?"_

_"Are you ever going to put any clothes on?" Stiles asked, breathing heavily as he supported Scott's legs, his unconscious body seemingly three times heavier than usual._

_"Does it make you uncomfortable?" Malia asked, a smirk curling up her lips._

_Stiles shrugged, "Maybe a little."_

_"Then no." They were silent for a moment, watching the castle slowly come closer, but not fast enough. "No, it wasn't Dad. Need I remind you, Dad's not an alpha. I didn't know the alpha's scent. He smelled strongly of several other alphas, but he was definitely the most alpha out of all of them. I don't know how that works, but apparently it does. Oh, and I think you should know, Scott got bit."_

_Stumbling to a halt, Stiles stared at her, mouth slightly open. "Bit like Lydia got bit, or bit like a wild animal bit him?"_

_"Same thing, basically," Malia said with a shrug of her shoulders, "But if you must know, bit like Lydia got bit."_

_Stiles swore under his breath. "You're telling me that both of my best friends are going to turn into werewolves? You've got to be fucking kidding me. Why is my whole life being filled by the supernatural?"_

_Derek and Malia exchanged a quick glance. "Possibly."_

_"Possibly. Possibly? What the hell does that mean?"_

_"Well, the bite doesn't always take. So hope that it takes because if it doesn't, you're going to be short a best friend or two," Malia told him, ushering him forward, "If we don't get to Melissa soon, though, you're going to be short one best friend because he bled out."_

_Turning his eyes to Derek who only nodded the affirmative, Stiles pushed forward, forcing him back towards the castle._

…..

Stiles stared at him, shock and hurt and fear and something like anger warring within him. "What do you mean?" he asked, voice trembling, his emotions shoving through into the open. Derek was going to leave him with four newly transformed werewolves, two wolves that, though they had been turned for a good amount of time, were still stupidly terrible at controlling the turn, and a were-coyote that was more coyote than she was girl. Not to mention that Peter still hadn't returned from when he'd disappeared the last time. His voice rising, he repeated the question, "Derek, what do you **mean** that you're not coming home this summer?"

Derek flinched away from the harshness of Stiles' tone as if he'd been struck, keeping his eyes trained away from any of his pack. "There's nothing for us to go back to in Beacon Hills. Our home was burned to the ground, our family burned to ashes along with it. We… we can't go back."

Everything in Stiles had gone quiet. His mind, his panic, even his magic, had all gone silent. "What about Malia? She's coming back with us. She is as much your family as your father, your mother, the rest of your pack. Is she not worth staying for?"

"Malia… didn't want to come with us."

Standing, Stiles glared at Derek and Cora. The air around him began crackling with magic, like a thunderstorm ready to snap. The pack jumped to their feet, backing away from Stiles.

Derek and Cora turned wide eyes to him, curling in on themselves. Lydia remained in her seat. She possessed not the strength nor the patience to be running away from Stiles' magical outbursts. She reached into her sleeve, the spell she would need to protect not only the siblings, but the rest of the pack on her tongue. Standing shakily, she said, "Stiles, you need to calm down right now. This is not the time or the place for this. They haven't done anything wrong. Think of when your mother died. Did you and your father want to be home, where your mother was everywhere, in everything? They don't even have a home to return to. Think about it, did you even want to be in Beacon Hills?"

Stiles stared at her, his eyes filling with tears and his throat tightening at the mention of that time so long ago. "This is different," he whispered thickly, "It was only my father and me. We had no one, but each other, no other family, not any close family friends. And when Dad disappeared into a bottle, there was no one left for me. They're not alone though! We're their family! We're their pack! We're their home! Just like we are here at Hogwarts! That doesn't change when we go back home."

…..

_"So, now you're a werewolf," Stiles sighed, tired of trying to explain the whole situation to Scott. He hadn't so far been able to come up with a story that satisfied Scott enough to stop the torrent of questions, and Derek, Malia, and Cora had been absolutely zero help. Currently, they were sitting in Headmaster Deaton's office, discussing only Trelawney knew what. Probably what to do about Scott's knew werewolf status, or maybe the thing that had attacked him and Lydia, and killed Laura. "Would you stop asking questions? Someone's going to overhear."_

_Lydia, flipping through a magazine with twitchy movements, muttered, "A little late for that." She lifted her eyes, locking on Erica. She had her hand pressed over her mouth, her eyes wide and bright despite the sickly pallor of her skin and the deep sleepless bruises colored beneath her eyes. Turning, Erica took off into the castle. "You really need to find better places to do this. Better yet, learn to use a quieting charm around you."_

_"Lydia," Stiles groaned, staring after Erica, "Not helpful. Not helpful in the least. What are we supposed to do about her? I'm terrible at memory charms, and plus, she's already gone."_

_"Well, you could just summon her back, wait for the hairy trio to return, and have one of them do it for you," she suggested, returning to her magazine, "One of them has to be halfway decent with a memory charm." She'd yet to heal from her bite, still laid up in the Hospital Wing, but other than being more irritable than usual, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with her. She wasn't accepting or rejecting the bite._

_Stiles and Scott blinked at her. "Use a summoning charm… on a person? Is that even legal?" Scott asked, looking to Stiles._

_"I don't know. Dad's a muggle police officer. It's not like he works for the Ministry of Magic," Stiles said, dropping his head on the edge of Lydia's bed. "This is going to turn from bad to worse, isn't it?"_

_"Yep," she replied simply, licking the tip of her finger and turning the page of her magazine._

… _.._

_"Madame McCall! Madame McCall!" someone shouted frantically, rushing down the darkened halls._

_Stiles jerked up, eyes flying open, his hand already clutched around his wand. Lydia was already awake, her eyes watchful and sparking, trained on the door. "Looks like it's turned worse. Give me my wand." She held out a waiting hand, never turning her eyes from the door. He scrambled for her wand, passing it to her quickly._

_Yawning, but more widely awake than Stiles would have thought, Melissa bustled towards the doors, pulling them open just in time to emit Isaac, Boyd, and Erica. They were splattered with blood. Isaac's hand was covered with it. The shoulder of Boyd's shirt had been soaked through. Erica was the worst through. They'd wrapped a scarf tightly around her throat, but blood was already pooling in her collarbones._

_"What happened?" Melissa screeched, levitating Erica out of Boyd's arms to the closest bed, and shoving the boys down onto another._

_"We followed Erica into the woods, and we were attacked by a giant black wolf!" Isaac shouted, jerking up from the bed to grab Erica's hand. Melissa shoved him back down. "We thought it would leave us alone if we just left, but it attacked us instead! We all got bit!"_

_Stiles and Lydia locked eyes. '_ Black wolf? _' he mouthed, '_ The one who bit you? _' She shook her head._

_Melissa worked feverishly, spells flying over her tongue as she pressed gauze to Erica's throat. Pausing for a breath, she snapped, "First Lydia, then Laura, after that Scott, now you three. What were you doing in the woods? You know how dangerous it's gotten, and after curfew on top of that!"_

_Isaac shrank away from her ire, fear flashing in his eyes. Boyd spoke up, putting a stilling hand on Isaac's knee, "We saw Erica leaving the castle. We didn't want her to get hurt, so we followed her."_

_"It's a good thing you did, then. Go get me that needle and thread. These wounds aren't going to close with a spell."_

…..

Shaking her head at the intrusion of her own long ago heartbreak, when her parents divorced, Lydia said, "Eventually, Stiles, that might be true, but right now, everything is too new, the wounds are too fresh. You need to give them time, time to grieve and wrap their minds around the atrocity that had ripped their world to shreds."

Stiles' magic fizzled from the air, a single bolt streaking into the sky, ramming against the ceiling and skittering across the stones. In moments, every light, whether it was magically lit fire or electronic of some kind fizzled into darkness. Save for the whisper of shocked breath and the drip of water from a window, the common room was quiet.

Lydia sighed, bringing the lights back into life. Stiles was gone, either somewhere in the castle or the dormitory. "Really, he needs to learn to control his emotions better. He's almost an adult now."

Sighing collectively, the pack nodded. "Yes, but you have to give it to him, he hasn't had a magical outburst since that time with Kate Argent," Scott pointed out.

…..

_Scrunching his nose up, Scott sneezed loudly, ramming his knee into the underside of the table. Groaning, he clutched at the throbbing spot._

_"What's that ugly look on your face for?" Cora asked, batting at Lydia's hands as she dusted powdered sugar over her French toast, "Not that your face isn't ugly every day, but it's particularly hideous today."_

_"I smell something. Like… I don't know how to explain it, but it makes me really annoyed," Scott muttered, rubbing at his nose, staring around at the Great Hall. His eyes slid over Jackson and Danny, focusing on Ethan and Aiden._

_"It smells like… werewolf?" Erica asked, licking the yogurt off a spoon with a slow, deliberate sweep of her tongue. "But not like us?"_

_"Yeah," Scott muttered, irrational hatred growing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of them. It grew even more so when Ethan ran his hand down Danny's leg. He shook his head, tearing his eyes from the scene._

_Cora glanced over her shoulder, wrinkling her nose at the sight herself. "That's because they're werewolves, but right now, they're not entirely part of our pack." She turned her gaze back to Scott, watching him fight against the fact that his nails were claws. "And that," she made a circle around him with her finger, "is because Danny is part of our pack even if he doesn't know it yet, and another wolf is trying to mark him. It happens to the best of us."_

_Stiles dropped down beside Scott, Derek finding a seat across from him. "More werewolves?" he asked incredulously, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling._

_Scott nodded, jerking his head towards the twins._

_"Awesome. Isn't the full moon just around the corner? So we're going to have eight werewolves running around the school, four of which don't know how to control a damn thing yet. And two of which are emotionally compromised."_

_"Actually, we'll all be home for the next full moon," Isaac interjected, methodically cleaning beneath his fingernails. He glanced up at Aiden and Ethan, scoffing in the back of his throat._

_Throwing his hands into the air, Stiles followed them up. "Even better!" he shouted sarcastically, "Now they can destroy our town instead of our school! I can't wait!" He turned away from the table, snatching a piece of buttered toast from Scott's plate. " I can't do this right now. I'm going to Transfiguration."_

…..

"It's still annoying," Lydia muttered, feeling for her seat as she lowered herself back into it.

Worrying at her hands, twisting them and squeezing them together, Cora stared fixedly at the carpet beneath the coffee table strewn with sweets between them. Lydia placed only her fingertips on the back of Cora's hand, bringing her to a stop. With a deep breath, she muttered, "Derek, I- I'm not going with you. I'm going back to Beacon Hills."

Derek's eyes jerked over to her, but she remained studiously fixated on the carpet. "Why?"

"I just… there's some things I need to sort out, but I have to be in Beacon Hills to do that. I want to be home right now, even if our home is gone," she explained.

Not wanting to push her in any way, Derek nodded simply. "I'll see you before school starts next year then." Standing, he made to leave.

"Wait," Cora sighed, standing and dragging him into a crushing hug. The rest of the pack was drawn to them like moths to flame, even Ethan and Aiden who were nothing if not resentful of their new pack. They curled around the pair, snuggling into them. "See you in a few months."

"See you in a few months," Derek whispered.

…..

Melissa sighed heavily as she dropped down into the passenger seat of Sheriff Stillinski's van, running her hand up through her hair. Stiles and all the others were already piled into the car, some dropping off to sleep, others texting their parents.

The Sheriff held down a smile, glancing over at her. "Hard end to the year?"

"Harder than you know. The last part of the year was completely filled with blood."

"Isn't that every year?"

Rolling her eyes, Melissa slung her seatbelt across her lap. "It was worse this year. I had five kids get bit in the woods in the last month. All of them in this car, and all of them bit by the same type of animal. I don't think it was the same one specifically. I think it was two different ones. Hopefully next year, the kids will be safer, or I'm going to have to take things into my own hands."

"Well, you'll have to be careful yourself."

Nodding, Melissa glanced over her shoulder. Without Derek there, everything felt off, as if they weren't completely home. She hoped that everything would return to normal soon, and Stiles would return to his boisterous self instead of the quiet sullenness he had taken on.


	17. The First Full Moon

Lydia flopped back onto Stiles, smirking at the groan that rumbled through his chest. "Come on, get up. We're doing things today. It's summer and I'm not letting you wallow in self-pity for the next three months. We're going out with Cora and Danny today. Get up," she sang, flipping onto her stomach to breath in his ear.

"Why would you do that?" Stiles whined, burying his face in his pillow.

"Because you're being a complete downer, and it's like ten already. That's almost halfway done with day. We have things to do, places to be, people to see. Today is the day you will be social. You're dad already gave me the permission to get you out of the house in any manner I deem necessary. He's got a date with Madame McCall he thinks we all don't know about." She grinned, snuggling into his back. "You've been locked in this room for the past week. That's not healthy, darling."

Stiles mumbled a reply that turned into a growl. A gasp ripped up his throat as he shoved himself up onto his hands. Lydia was thrown up, landing back on his back with a yelp. "Oh fuck, the full moon's tonight."

"Yes, tonight, so you can still do stuff **today** ," Lydia said brightly, making herself comfortable on his back again. Sliding off his back, she shoved him off the side of the bed with a pair of well placed boots to his side. "Get up, Danny and Cora are already waiting down in the car."

Rolling his eyes as he dragged himself to his feet, Stiles glowered at her. When he saw that he wasn't going to make any headway against her, he started pulling on clothing. "I hate you."

"No," she said simply, "You love me."

…..

Cora laughed brightly in the back seat, slinging a reply back at Lydia that had Stiles' skull splitting in two. The day was nearly over, the sun slowly beginning to set against the horizon. The sky blazed oranges and pinks, darkening to the navy blue of full dark. The full moon rose high in the sky, ushering the sun to sleep and calling the supernatural to life.

"Hey, Stiles, are you alright?" Danny asked from the front seat, twisting around to grasp his knee.

Stiles shook his head. "No, no I'm not," he hissed through his teeth, curling in on himself, pulling his knees to his chest, "Lydia, Cora, we need to get the others. Now. The calm isn't going to last long, and I have a feeling tonight is going to be a rough one."

Cora glanced over at him, knowing in her eyes. Lydia looked at him in the rear mirror, fear clouding hers. She nodded, whipping her car around with squealing tires. Danny braced himself against the middle console, throwing a glare towards his best friend.

Lydia kept her eyes on the road, muttering, "It's a good thing they're all hulled up at Scott's tonight. It would be a bitch to collect all of them." She darted a look to Danny, allowing a curse to slip passed her lips. "Well, Danny, looks like you're going to learn today."

"Learn what, exactly?"

"Is that alright with you two?" Lydia asked the back seat, ignoring Danny's question.

Stiles didn't reply, curling his nails into the back of his neck, so Cora wordlessly nodded.

Danny rolled his eyes forcefully, flipping back around and tightening his seatbelt across his lap. "If you're talking about the whole werewolf thing, I already know. If you get me killed, I will come back and kill every single one of you, I swear it."

…..

"Scott, where's your mom?" Stiles hissed, wincing as his own voice sent splinters through his head and black spots across his vision. He leaned heavily into Danny, his feet dragging across the hardwood of Scott's living room.

Scrambling around, kicking blankets and pillows and small coffee tables that sobbed at impact out of their way, he rushed, "She's was supposed to be just getting dinner for us, but she's been gone for a few hours. She might have gotten called in by her witch friend at the hospital. I don't think she'll be back for a while."

Stiles whined as Danny lowered him onto the couch, curling in on himself once more. Not only was his head splitting in two, but his chest now felt as if it was being pried open by the jaws of life and his heart forcibly removed while beating. His toes curled with the pain, the air around him crackling with magic.

"What's wrong?" Scott asked, dropping down in front of his best friend. He was careful not to touch him, not wanting to feel the wrath of one of Stiles' magical outbursts. Inadvertently, he took to snuffling around Stiles, looking for the source of his anguish. As he pulled away, his own face contorted with only a sliver of what his best friend was going through. "Ah, hell."

"Do you have chains? Or maybe handcuffs? Even rope would do some good," Cora asked quickly, looking around the house frantically as the moon began to rise higher in the sky. Her eyes were flashing gold, her breath labored.

"What? No! Why would I have any of those things?" Scott asked.

Cora snapped her teeth to him, a snarl ripping up her throat. Lydia grabbed her wrist tightly, glaring at the girl. "Sorry," she muttered, turning her eyes from him, "That was uncalled for."

Keeping her eyes on the girl beside her, Lydia held out her hand, "Everyone, give me your wands. Now. Except for you, Danny, you're going to need that unless you go home."

Ethan jumped up from a couch, his eyes flashing. "No! Danny should stay here."

His eyebrows pulling together, Danny gripped Ethan's shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere. I can help… somehow."

"Wands," Lydia reiterated with a hard roll of her eyes.

The wolves and coyote willingly relinquished their wands, Lydia plucking Stiles' wand from his back pocket once she had them in hand. "No one is getting their wand back until the sun's cheeky little face starts to poke itself over those hills, do you hear me? Danny and myself are the only two who will have their wands on hand." With a wave of hers, she banished the rest to a place only she knew of.

"Why doesn't Stiles get his wand?" Scott asked, still crouched in front of him.

"Because if you haven't noticed, he's going out of his mind faster than the rest of you," she told him curtly, "Which, frankly, doesn't make a lick of sense, but neither does you all turning at the full moon."

To validate her point, Stiles let out a suppressed scream, digging his nails into his scalp.

"Case in point."

"So… what are we supposed to do? I'm completely in control, but we have four newly turned shifters and two relatively new shifters and one emotionally compromised shifter," Malia pointed out matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against the wall coming into the living room.

Erica snarled over at Malia, her eyes flashing gold, and Malia returned the favor with a flash of steel blue. Isaac turned a snort of laughter into a cough, turning his face away into Boyd's back.

"You may not think so, but I am the most stable one here -shut up-," she said, shoving a finger in Isaac's direction, "And we need a game plan before the moon reaches its peak because once it does… well, let's just say 'I'm going to need help' is an understatement."

…..

Lydia and Danny hooked the final cuffs and chains to the wall. Pulling back into the middle of the living room, they did one last check of their friends' restraints before sliding to the floor, back to back. Each had a hand on Stiles' ankle, trying to keep him calm, but his voice had oscillated slowly between keening and screaming. No amount of coaxing or soothing would lessen his agony.

Outside the windows, the moon had reached its peak, the light filtering through thin, lacey curtains hanging over the windows.

"Was this necessary?" Malia growled, the moonlight falling across her face, jerking at the one chain linking her wrists to the wall. Her growl deepened as her claws dug into the plaster.

"Hey! That's the wall of my house!" Scott shouted, shifting agitatedly, the links around his ankles rattling.

Flashing fangs, Malia snarled at him, "I don't give a shit."

"You will when I rip your eyes out."

"Shut up! Shut up, all of you!" Stiles shouted, digging his heels into the couch as they pushed out from his body. His knuckles pressed white against his skin, a scream rising from his throat.

The wolves, and even Malia, added their own voices to his scream, their howls flooding the house, pouring out of every crevice. Stiles' magic snapped, shooting out through the room in every direction, blooming against the walls and skittering down the chains and into the weres. Stiles' scream dissolved into relieved panting, his hands falling away from his head, but the howls continues, growing louder to accommodate the lack of a voice.

"What's going on?" Danny called back to Lydia, clutching his wand like a lifeline, his fingers a vice around hers.

Lydia was silent for a long moment, resisting the urge to scream herself. It stuck in the back of her throat, clawing at her vocal cords. "I… I think…" she swallowed down the knot in her throat, whispering just loud enough for Danny to catch her words, "I think they're calling for their alpha."

"Derek?" Danny whispered back, "They're looking for Derek? What about Stiles?"

"Same. He's calling for their alpha, for Derek. Fuck, if I thought they needed him this badly, I would have found a way or someone to get him to stay." Lydia ran her hands through her hair, her lipstick smudged.

Danny spun around to face her, eyes wide and a little terrified. "Why would Stiles be calling for an alpha? The three of us are human, and you don't see us screaming for him."

With the weres going crazy, Lydia couldn't or wouldn't look Danny in the eye. "Danny, you know a lot, but you don't know everything. Not even Stiles knows everything, and right now is not the time to explain why you're the only full human in the room!" she snapped.

"I'm the what?" he shouted, but his words were drowned out by the screech of metal breaking and the scream of nails on plaster. Flipping back around, the pair stared at Scott's broken chains and Malia dragging her nails down the wall again, deliberately staring Scott down. She gnashed her teeth at him, a clear challenge.

Groaning, Lydia pushed herself to her feet. "For the love of McGonagall's wand arm," she snarled, raising her wand just as three more chains shattered, "Stupid, weak enchanted chains." Keeping her eyes on Erica's advancing form, she called over her shoulder, "Stiles, a little help here. Now would be a great time to come out of that coma of yours!"

Stiles groaned in response, his back arching off of the couch.

She let out a scream as Isaac jumped over the couch at her. "Stiles, time to stop dying!" Boyd stalked around on Danny's side.

"What do we do?" Danny shouted, holding his wand as far away from his body as he could manage.

"I don't know!" As one, they threw up shields, backing to Stiles as the wolves threw themselves at the barrier. "I don't think those are going to last long." Already, they could hear the cracks creating a spider web through the magic. "No, not long at all."

Grabbing Lydia's shoulder, Stiles hauled himself from the couch, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin, but his eyes glowing bright red, near the shade of a shifted Derek's, with his magic. Stepping around the pair, he stepped as close to the barrier as he could manage, and said, "Back off. They are your friends, not for you to-"

His words were cut off by the snarls and snapping of teeth and yelps of pain from Scott and Malia as they fought behind the couch. Whirling around, he locked eyes with Scott's rapidly shifting ones. They fluttered wildly between gold and scarlet, narrowing at Stiles. Though Malia was still scrambling after him, Scott turned, stalking towards Stiles.

"Scott," Stiles growled warningly, spreading his arms in front of Danny and Lydia.

Boyd, Isaac and Erica turned to stare at Scott, crouching low to the floor. Ethan and Cora pulled themselves up against the wall, transformed, but in control. Aiden and Malia fought against their chains, growling and itching for a fight.

Scott stalked towards them, eyes fixed on Stiles, head cocked at an unnatural angle. As the trio roared, marking Stiles, Danny, and Lydia as their prey, Scott's head swiveled towards them, twisting inquisitively. When the three roared again, his hackles shot sky high. With the scarlet of his eyes only growing redder with each passing moment and the gold fainter, Scott released a roar that had them crouching low to the floor, shuffling against the wall and hiding within each other's shirts. Aiden and Malia's jaws snapped shut. Terror flooded Ethan and Cora's faces.

Unfounded anger roiled in Stiles, his magic racing through the house, sending his hair bristling. "Back off now, Scott!" he shouted, pouring magic into his words.

Scott struggled against their hold, dragging himself closer with each step. He roared again, clawing for Stiles.

Power flooded into Stiles, mixing with his anger. "Scott! You are not the alpha! Back off!"

"The alpha left! I can be the alpha!" Scott finally yelled, his words near unintelligible, but the gold of his eyes brightened, overshadowing the red.

"No, you can't be! Derek is the alpha, and I am the alpha's mate! This is not your pack to command, and you do not have authority here!" His voice rang with command. The room shuddered around them. The magic crackling through the room pulsed, the lights flickering around them. His mother's ring beneath his shirt, hung from the chain Talia had given it to him on, vibrated like a tuning fork, pulsing with his magic.

When Scott flung his body towards Stiles, Stiles only threw up his arms in protection, eyes slamming shut. Scott yelped helplessly, slamming back against the wall, sliding down beside Malia. Another yelp was pulled from him as Stiles' magic wrapped around his form.

Stiles stood over him, eyes glowing the scarlet of an alpha's. "Learn your place," he snarled, crouching to lean close to Scott's face, their noses nearly brushing, "Or you won't like what happens." He smiled menacingly.

Terror curling Scott into himself, his eyes faded back to gold, his form returning to human. With chattering teeth and shuddering muscles, he whispered, "Wh-what just happened?"

Stiles fell back onto his hands, his eyes their normal shade of amber and wide as they could be. His mother's ring shone through the fabric of his shirt, a bright ring of light against his breastbone. "I don't know."

"What the fuck was that?" Lydia cried, huddled behind Danny.

Standing and releasing Scott from his magic, he repeated, "I don't know."

…..

"Now. Now you can explain to me what you meant when you said I was the only full human in the room and what the hell just happened out there," Danny told Lydia over the sound of the shower. He stood in the steam of the tiny bathroom, leaning back against the edge of the sink, staring at the stripped towel hanging over the towel rod. "If I'm the only full human, what does that make you and Stiles?"

A heavy sigh floated up with the steam followed by Lydia's voice. "Not completely human." She paused for a moment, thinking of where to start. "Before Laura died, she told me some things, some things that got me thinking."

"What things?" Danny pushed himself up onto the counter, leaning his head back against the wall. How the hell had he gotten so mixed up in all this crazy supernatural bullshit? Maybe if he stopped dating all together, most of his problems would be solves.

"Things, like, we don't smell completely human. Yeah, the mixing of magical blood with magical creature blood isn't a new idea, but it's not that common either," Lydia said, peaking her head out of the shower to look at him. "Other things, I figured out by myself. Like the whole werewolf thing. They weren't very subtle about it."

"So, if you and Stiles aren't completely human, then what is the other part of you?"

Lydia sighed again, forlornly, "I don't know."

Danny nodded to himself, turning his eyes to the ceiling. "Can you at least explain what happened with Stiles and Scott? I thought you could only be an alpha by killing another, so how were Scott's eyes both red and gold, and Stiles, his eyes were red for a little bit there too. Ethan and Cora too, why weren't they completely going crazy like the others?"

"I can only make assumptions about all of that. I do have a few theories though."

"Care to share?"

Considering, letting the warm water run over her skin, Lydia nodded. "Well, with Derek being gone, there was no alpha here to control the others, as you saw. With the absence of an alpha, one of the others had to take over, right? So, something in Scott, something that has the qualities of a leader, took that opportunity. I've only ever read about it in passing, where a werewolf becomes an alpha without needing to be given the power or an alpha having to die for that to happen. I think that's what happened to Scott tonight." She paused, letting the events of the night slip through her mind like water over smooth stone. "But what Scott's wolf forgot is that this 'pack' has a mated pair, an alpha pair."

"Mated pair? Alpha pair?" Danny asked curiously.

"Right, it's what you call the alpha male and alpha female in a true pack of wolves. That's what Derek and Stiles are. I don't think Stiles actually knew they were mated until whatever makes him loyal to Derek got pissed at Scott for trying to take that position. So, when Scott tried that, Stiles alpha -or whatever makes him not as human as everyone things- came out to remind Scott's wolf of that fact. I'm guessing though that Stiles wouldn't have been able to control the others so easily without that part of him that isn't human. As far as I can tell, his alpha isn't that strong yet."

Rubbing at his forehead, Danny tried to wrap his mind around what Lydia had just told him. When he couldn't, he decided it would be best to just move onto something else. "Okay, Cora and Ethan then. Why weren't they going crazy?"

"Us."

Danny blinked. "What?"

"I think… I think we were keeping them relatively sane. They didn't want us to get hurt, so they kept themselves calm."

"Well, I can understand Ethan and me, we're together, but Cora and you just doesn't make that much sense. Yeah, you two are friends, but not that close of-" He stopped abruptly, letting his mind process it. "Ah, Lydia, you're not-"

She only laughed in response.


	18. The Visitors

"Stiles?" Derek asked tentatively, sliding the door of the compartment open, swaying with the motion of the train.

Stiles didn't look up, his eyes focused on a picture of their mothers laughing together, cooing at the sight of a new born Stiles cradled in Claudia's arms. He fingered the ring beneath his shirt, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. His head was tilted, resting on the window, headphones pressed into his ears. Carefully, he turned the page, flashing a picture of Derek and Paige in Derek's face.

Lydia, Scott and Danny were on their feet in a moment, pushing the silent Derek gently from the compartment. "Hey, now's not really a great time for you to be coming back into Stiles' life after being gone all summer," Scott said, glancing back over his shoulder, making sure Stiles was still focused on his photo album.

"Yeah, because you were off finding yourself, this summer was worse than a trip through Tartarus," Lydia snapped irately, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She had to resist the urge to press a manicured finger into his chest. She also had to resist the urge to find out what that stubble on his face would feel like beneath her hands. He'd grown up over the summer, but so had all of them.

Confusion contorted Derek's newly, very handsome face. "What do you mean?"

"What do I-" Lydia's words cut off with a growl of frustration, her fingers arching to create a cage that she would have liked to wrap around his throat. "Boys are so stupid!"

"Well, you kind of left us to deal with all of these werewolves for three full moons. Stiles was really the only one out of the three of us who ever managed, or even could, keep them under control," Danny explained, staring at Lydia, "You kind of left your mate to deal with all of it. It hasn't been the easiest summer."

"My mate?" Derek asked, the confusion only growing.

Before Lydia could blow her top at him, Stiles slammed the compartment door open, eyes wide. Lydia, Danny and Scott jumped apart. "Derek?" he questioned, staring at the boy across from him. He threw himself at Derek, wrapping his arms around his throat. "Derek!"

"Stiles," Derek breathed, pressing his nose into his hair.

Pulling himself higher against Derek's chest, Stiles pressed their mouths together, melting into him like a drowning man gasping for air. Laughter spilled into Derek's mouth. Stiles finally felt whole again. "Fuck, I missed you so much." When he pulled away, he punched Derek in the nose. "As much as I missed you, I'm still pissed that you left me with all of them. That's for letting me almost die."

Holding his nose, speaking through the blood dripping down his lips, Derek mumbled, "I'm sorry. I should have come back with you guys."

Arms crossed over his chest, Stiles asked, "Did you figure out what you needed to while you were wherever you were?"

"I figured out that I can't live without you," Derek replied, still holding his nose.

"Sap," Lydia coughed, turning her eyes away from the pair.

Stiles suppressed a grin. "Apology accepted."

"I didn't apologize though."

"It was as good as one."

Cora jerked the door open, grinning as she looked down at her brother. "Oh Stiles, did you do that? That's fucking awesome. At least someone finally did it!" With a roll of her eyes, Lydia flicked her wand at Derek's nose. There was a sharp crack, a cry of pain, and Derek surfaced with his nose straight again. "Aw, you're no fun, Lydia," she whined.

"That's not what you were saying last night," Lydia quipped back at her.

"Gross," Danny sighed, returning to the compartment. He dropped down beside Ethan, ripping a large chunk from his pumpkin pasty.

…..

"Back at Hogwarts!" Stiles shouted as they tore off the train and up the paths to the carriages. He spun around, trotting backwards, "Just this year and then one more year! We're almost graduated! Can you believe it? And you know what else is going on this year?"

"What?" Scott asked, jogging after him.

Wiggling his eyebrows, Stiles sang, "The Triwizard Tournament."

"Ah, hell yeah!" Cora shouted, pumping her fist in the air, "I am totally entering my name! No one is going to stop me, not even you, Derek!"

"What about me?" Lydia asked, trotting up next to her. She puckered out her bottom lip, batting her lashes at the younger girl.

Cora dropped back to her, sliding her arm through Lydia's. "I'd do anything you asked me to." They slowed to a stop for Lydia to place a chaste kiss on her lips.

Danny passed them, muttering, "No, really, you two should have just stayed in the closet. No one needs this level of affection from the two of you. If you two were someone else, maybe you'd be able to get away with this, but seeing as you two are the cold hearted witches you are, you can't." He threw a smile over his shoulder at Lydia, threading his fingers together with Ethan.

"How do you know this year is the Triwizard Tournament year? Hasn't it been inconsistent since Voldemort used it to kill Cedric Diggory and come back from the dead?" Isaac asked. He walked beside Boyd, Erica and Erica's cat which had stretched itself languidly across her shoulders. Despite not needing the cat to sense her seizures anymore, and most cats not liking her, Erica couldn't seem to part with the friendly feline.

Stiles shrugged. "I heard Mama McCall explaining what it was to my dad last night."

"Didn't someone go literally out of their mind, and started slaughtering students last time? At the one they tried after Harry Potter's?" Aiden spoke up from the back of the group.

Stiles shrugged again. "Only those who were there know."

"Wait, what did you call my mom?" Scott asked, laughter in his words.

"No time for that!" Stiles shouted, catapulting himself onto Derek's back. He wrapped his legs around his waist, grabbing onto his shoulders. "We've got a feast to get to! Onward, noble stead, there are pies to be eaten and spells to be cast!"

…..

The first years had all been sorted and seated, shifting anxiously as they always did every year. The only difference this year was that everyone else in the hall was also like those first years, whispering and shifting and laughing and resisting the urge to make sure their wand was still in their pocket. When Headmaster Deaton stepped up to his podium, a forced smile on his lips, the Great Hall went deathly silent.

Blinking at his podium for a long moment, taking a large breath, he turned a smile to the students, "Welcome for those who are new, and welcome back for those who are returning. Before we begin the feast, there are a few announcements to be made."

Stiles jumped in his seat, excitement poisoning his blood. Derek put a hand on his knee, but that only had his knees jump more.

"After the tragedy last year concerning Professor Laura Hale and the incidents with a few students, no student is allowed in the woods, Forbidden or otherwise. Professor Rafael McCall will be taking Professor Hale's position as Flying instructor." He held out his hand as Scott's father stood, nodding to the students, before taking his seat once more.

' _What the fuck?_ ' Scott mouthed to Stiles, glaring at his father before looking at his mother sharply. She shrugged at him, as surprised as he was.

"The role of Grounds Keeper will be filled by Professor Deucalion, our Care for Magical Creatures instructor, and the Gryffindor Head of House will be taken over by Professor Chris Argent." As Rafael had done, Chris and Duecalion stood, his hand slipped into Morrell's elbow. When they were seated again, Deaton clapped his hands. "Once the feast is over, there will be one more announcement. Eat, be merry, the most exciting is yet to come."

Stiles rolled his eyes at the rest of the pack. Somehow, they'd managed to steal the back of the Slytherin table without any of the teachers saying anything about them not being with their houses. Grumbling at his plate, he grabbed for a pie at his elbow before the rest of the pack could devour it, but there was no need. All save for Jackson, Lydia and Danny who were already deep in conversation, the rest sat with their hands in their laps, patiently looking at Stiles and Derek. Setting the pie back down, he asked, "Hey, eat up, guys. What are you waiting for?"

"They're waiting for us to get out food first," Derek explained.

"Why?"

"It's a pack thing," Ethan said quickly before the others could open their mouths, "It's a sign of respect. The alphas eat first, then the betas. It's more than just to show respect though, it's something in our genetics."

Though confusion still twisted his features, Stiles shoved Derek's plate at him. "Here, get your food. They shouldn't have to wait for us even if it is a pack thing."

"Stiles, it's fine. You eat like a bird anyway," Scott said, watching them get their food.

Stiles rolled his eyes again, pulling his plate towards him. "Just eat, idiots." Their banter rose, and as the night wore on, they were the only ones who never lagged or quieted. It was only when Deaton stood once more at the end of the feast that they stopped talking.

"It appears that our guests have arrived," Deaton called through the hall, his voice full of trepidation despite the smile on his lips.

Without another second, the doors to the Great Hall burst open, inviting a flood of bodies through. They danced along the center aisle in their sapphire silk dresses and suits, their skirts and jacket tails fluttering around them. Smiles, wide and inviting, warmed their faces. Small blue birds and butterflies fluttered out of the folds of their clothing, flying towards the ceiling before bursting into blue petals that alighted in the hair and on the shoulders of the other students.

Scott's mouth dropped open, his eyes focused on the girl at the head of the procession. She had dark hair that brushed her shoulders and confidence to kill. On either side of her, Kate Argent and the acting Headmaster strode. When the girl reached the steps leading up to Deaton, she stopped and bowed low to the floor.

"We welcome our sister school from France to our home," Deaton called grandly.

The blue clothed students clumped together against one wall, watching the door with raised brows. Smirks twisted their lips in a rather unkind way.

"I thought that the Beuxbatons were an all-female school," Erica whispered, eyes focused on the new arrivals.

"Apparently, not anymore," Lydia replied.

A new flood of students entered the Great Hall. They wore simple skirts and trousers with white button-ups tucked into the waists. As one, they stopped in the entrance to the Great Hall, and as one, they raised their wands. Fire, crimson and gold, swirled from their wand tips, coalescing into the head and body of a dragon. Opening its maw wide, a roar to rival an alpha's shook the Great Hall. The fire dragon shot forward, flying towards the head table. When it reached the exact place the girl had bowed, it burst into blinding light and golden dust.

With the fading of the light, the second school found themselves across the hall from the first school. Between them, a stone goblet lit with flickering flames stood on a pedestal.

Scott's mouth had dropped further, his eyes darting between the two schools, focusing on the first girl he'd noticed and a quieter girl with long black hair from the second school. No one noticed his preoccupation.

"We welcome our sister school from Japan to our home," Deaton called just as grandly as before.

It was Danny's turn to comment. "I didn't know there was a wizarding school in Japan."

"They don't get into the politics of the Wizarding World as much as the others do, and they're not as large," Lydia explained.

"For those who do not know, this is the Goblet of Fire, the chooser of our champions for the Triwizard Tournament. Those who wish to enter may enter, but be warned, once you are chosen, you are bound until the end of the Tournament. Let the Triwizard Tournament… Begin!"

The Grand Hall burst into applause and shouts and hoots of excitement from the three schools.

…..

"I am so jazzed for this year!" Stiles shouted, jumping around on Scott's bed. He pumped his fist in the air. Grabbing Scott's shoulders, he shook his best friend violently. "The Triwizard Tournament, Scottie! I am so there!"

Scott grinned, allowing himself to be shaken. "This is going to be an awesome year," he agreed.

"This year is going to kick ass!"

Jumping harder, Scott said, "I might actually get a girlfriend this year! The girls, Stiles, did you see the girls?"

"What girls?"

"The girls! How could you miss them? They were right there! They were beautiful!"

A grin split across Stiles face. He shook Scott harder. "Scott, my man! You'll do great, and if you get chosen for the Tournament, it'll be even better! Even if you don't, who could resist your Quidditch skills?"

"Yeah!" Scott shouted, Stiles' enthusiasm infecting him like the plague, sending them into a frenzy.

Stiles let out a shout of surprise as he stumbled over the edge of Scott's bed, plummeting towards the stone floor. Arms caught him, and suddenly he was being thrown into the cushion of another bed. He left out a gasp of laughter, sitting up just in time to shout a good night to his best friend before Derek shut the curtains around his bed and cast a silencing charm around them. Grinning, he pushed Derek into the bed, straddling his hips. "Alone at last."

"Sort of."

"Relatively," Stiles agreed, leaning forward to rest his body over Derek's, "It's good to have you back."

"And you," Derek breathed, wrapping his arms around Stiles' waist.

Grinning into Derek's shoulder, he asked, "Do you realize how handsome you got over the summer? I'll have to fight girls off tooth and nail to keep their hands off of you, and guys too. This year is going to be eventful, I can already feel it."

"Well, do you know how pretty you got over the summer? It's like you're part Veela, you're so beautiful. If anyone is going to be having to fight people off, it's going to be me. I'll have to fight off the girls because they'll want to rip your skin from your bones and wear it, and boys because they won't be able to keep their eyes off of you," Derek told him, tightening his hold on him.

"That's a very vivid picture you just painted," Stiles said, shaking his head, "I guess we'll just have to watch out for each other."

"I guess so."

Turning his face into Derek's, Stiles stole that kiss that was waiting on his lips just for him.


	19. Three Champions

Stiles looked back to Scott and the others, a grin stretching his lips wide. "Ready?" he asked, barely able to hold himself back. When they nodded, he returned it with a dip of his chin. "On three. Ready. One… Two… Three…" He and those of his pack that were entering their names stepped forward, reaching up and dropping their slips of paper into the goblet as one.

The Goblet's fire flared orange, burning their slips to ash, before settling back to blue.

Grinning as he stepped back, Stiles turned to Cora. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Scott go stalk still as a small group of the girls from the Japanese school entered holding small pieces of origami paper. "Where's Derek?"

She shrugged, watching the girls walk forward, nervously glancing around the hall. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since I told him we were all putting our names in today. He didn't want to put his name in. He didn't want either of us to put our names in."

Stiles sighed, turning to the doors. "I know. I'll go find him." Before he could take the first step, the girl who had led the Beauxbatons kicked the door open, the arm of a limp body slung over her shoulders. The Great Hall went silent, all eyes turning to them.

"The Hospital Wing, can anyone direct me to the Hospital Wing? He's badly hurt. I don't know how long he was out there before I found him. He's losing a lot of blood," she asked, her voice strained, but her posture calm, as if she dragged passed out guys around all the time.

"Oh shit, is that Jackson?" Stiles asked quickly, trotting towards her with the rest of his pack behind him, Scott at his side. "Yeah, this way, this way. Scott, grab his other arm." He turned suggestive eyes towards his best friend.

Grasping for the opportunity Stiles dangled before him, Scott scrambled forward, slipping beneath Jackson's free arm and taking most, if not all, of Jackson's weight off the girl. "I'm Scott."

The girl smiled over at him. "Allison."

One of the girls from the Japanese school stepped over, worry in her eyes. "Do you guys need help?"

Scott's eyes grew as he looked over at her. Stiles swiftly inserted himself between them. "No, thank you though. I think between us we can get him to Madame McCall before the idiot bleeds out. You're welcome to tag along though, if you like. I'm Stiles, by the way. I'd introduce you to the others if one of my idiot friends wasn't bleeding out all over my best friend," he explained quickly, pushing the doors open again.

The girl nodded, following after him. "I'm Kira."

Grinning back over his shoulder, Stiles said, "Nice to meet both of you, Allison, Kira."

…..

"Another one?" Melissa shouted irately as she hurried forward from where she was tending to a boy with puncture wounds in his arm. Turning back to him, she instructed, "Don't touch anything for the next twenty minutes. Just sit there and let the salve work. You should be good then." Eyes narrowing dangerously, she hissed, "The Headmaster specifically told everyone that the woods were off limits. Why in the name of Albus Dumbeldore were you all in the woods?"

The pack threw up their hands in surrender, backing away from her glare. "We were in the Great Hall entering our names. We didn't even know he'd been down in the woods until Allison came in with him," Ethan said quickly.

All eyes turned to the girl at hand, conversing quietly with Kira. She glanced up at the weight of eyes on her, stammering as she replied, "I was practicing. I wasn't aware that there was another person with me until he screamed. When I finally got there, the wolf was already disappearing into the woods."

"Wolf?" Stiles jumped in, eyebrows high across his forehead, "What did the wolf look like?"

Allison chewed at her bottom lips for a moment before looking back up. "It was large and black, if I remember correctly, and had crimson eyes."

Stiles exchanged a look with Lydia before immersing himself back into the middle of the group. The comfort and protection of his pack surrounded him as he allowed that fact to tumble around his mind.

"Well, if this bite is anything like all the others, then I won't be able to heal it," Melissa sighed, already waving her wand uselessly over the wound. Her shoulders fell, the fact that she couldn't help again weighing her down. "Ms. Allison, could you get me the needle and surgical thread that is on the shelf over there. Don't touch the tip of the needle please. Ms. Kira, could you bring me that candle." As the girls scattered to gather the items, Melissa gave her son a very pointed, knowing look before smiling at the pair. "Thank you. If you guys don't want to watch me stitch his skin together, I suggest you return to whatever you were doing."

"We'll be back later to check on him," Lydia told her, turning the others towards the hall with a flick of her wand.

When the doors had closed behind them, the pack, Allison and Kira exchanged quick looks. "Well, what do we do now?" Malia asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Movies?" Isaac suggested, "The school day is over, so we don't have much else to do."

As the others nodded, moving towards the Slytherin common room, Stiles pointed vaguely in the direction of the grounds. "I'm going to go find my idiot ma- uh, boyfriend. We'll catch up with you guys later." The pack waved him off, all eyes turning to the new pair accompanying them.

…..

"Derek?" Stiles called, skidding his way down towards Laura's cabin. It stood empty and unused, the gardens surrounding it flourishing, but overgrown. Deucalion had gently refused to use the cabin as his own, instead taking to living in the castle. So, when Stiles saw the smoke spiraling out of the chimney and light in the windows, he knew only one of two people would ever be there, and the other was currently snuggled up to her girlfriend.

The thick, wooden door creaked open, Derek poking his head through the crack. "Stiles? What's going on? Is everything alright?" His hair was a mess, sticking up on one side of his head with what looked like mud or something of the equivalent. The skin beneath his eyes was bruised with lack of sleep, as if he hadn't slept in days, which wasn't exactly a lie seeing as they had been sleeping alone since the first night back for reasons Stiles had yet to discover.

"Mostly. We were getting worried," he explained, mounting the stairs and throwing himself into Derek's awaiting arms.

"It's fine. I was just testing my new form. I'm still getting to know it. Why do you smell like blood?" he asked, pulling back to stare down at Stiles, concern darkening his eyes.

"Jackson was bit earlier," Stiles told him, looking for any blood splattered across his uniform, "Looks like our little pack just keeps growing and growing, doesn't it? Next you know, even Danny will be some kind of supernatural creature and Deputy Parrish won't even be human either and will come here to teach Potions or something completely unrealistic." He pressed his lips closed, taking a deep breath to slow down his mouth.

Derek groaned, turning his eyes towards the darkening sky overhead. "I do not want Jackson as part of our pack. That's just going to be a hassle and a half, but I guess we can't leave him to fend for himself."

"Don't worry, I think the only ones who actually won't mind him being in the pack are going to be Lydia and Danny, and maybe Isaac and Erica if he dances with them again," Stiles laughed, patting Derek's chest before slipping around him into the cabin. "You have some weird goop in your hair by the way."

Pressing his fingers to the side of his head, Derek pulled them away to see what had stuck to them. "Oh, that's just because your unicorn friends didn't particularly like me stalking so close to their territory. They kind of chased me off, and then some thestrals found me. They didn't like me either."

"Well, that's a shame. They're missing out," Stiles laughed, pulling a towel from the bathroom. He dampened it before tossing it in Derek's direction. "What were you doing out here anyway? I mean, besides the whole wolf thing."

"I just… didn't want to watch you guys put your names in the cup. I don't want any of you to get chosen," Derek explained, roughly rubbing the towel over his head.

Stiles mouth softened, and his eyes grew warmer. He stepped over to Derek, overshadowing Derek's shuddering hands with his own. "You don't have to worry about us. There's a very low chance of any of us getting chosen, and even if we do, we're all here to help whoever gets chosen. On top of that, we're all well equipped for the Tournament, don't you think?" He ducked beneath the edge of the towel, coming up less than an inch from Derek's nose.

"That's not it, it's just… there's always the possibility, the possibility that one of you might get chosen and not come back, and Kate came back. I have a feeling that's not a coincidence. They're all my pack, and you're my mate. I don't know what I would do if something happened to any of you, especially you," Derek explained quietly, leaning forward and pressing their foreheads together with closed eyes.

Stiles pushed back gently, lifting his chin so their lips were a hair's width apart. "I'll go have a talk with Headmaster Deaton about keeping everyone safe and whole, and finding out what is going on with everyone getting bitten. And whatever Kate came back for, if she hurts any of the pack, I will personally see to it that she regrets every second of that decision."

A grin on his lips, Derek pressed forward. "I love it when you go protective alpha," he whispered, breaking the tension that tightened the muscles of Stiles' shoulders.

"Aren't those supposed to be my words?" Stiles asked with a gentle breathy laugh against his lips.

"You'd think so," Derek replied, closing the distance between them.

…..

"Where'd you two disappear to?" Cora hissed, dragging Stiles and Derek down onto the bench at the Gryffindor table, the others sitting around them. Only Lydia was missing, explaining why Cora was such in a hideous mood. "They're choosing names tonight. Jackson is going to be in the Hospital Wing for the next few days, if that. Lydia is staying there in case he starts showing signs of turning. What were you two doing this whole time?" Her nose crinkled as their scents wafted towards her, fulfilled desire and sex and magic and the power of a mated alpha pair. Beneath all of that, she could smell the smoke of a wood fire and the overwhelming scent of _**Laura**_. "That's disgusting. You should respect her cabin more."

"You know she's probably screaming in triumph with Talia right about now. Well, they've probably been doing that for a while, but the point is that, what's the point of having a building if it's just going to crumble to ruin. Buildings are meant to be used, to be lived in," Stiles pointed out, running a quick hand through his still drying hair.

"But did you have to _have sex_ in her cabin? That's just gross," Cora grumbled irately, clicking clawed nails against the table top without noticing.

Stiles reached out a hand, covering hers with it. Immediately, she stilled, calming just enough to take a deep breath.

"It's not like it was much different from the other times," Derek muttered under his breath, looking over Erica's blonde waves to where Kate sat talking to a very uncomfortable looking Melissa.

"What?!" Cora shouted, jerking her fingers out from beneath Stiles', horror coloring her tone and gold flashing in her glare.

Putting a hand on her shoulder before she could bust out her full shift in front of the whole of the Great Hall, Stiles said sternly, command ringing behind his words, "Cora, calm down. This is not the time, nor the place. If you can't control yourself, I'm going to send you to find Lydia. Do you understand?" Magic and intent skittered across his palm from his mother's necklace, lancing through her being.

Dropping her eyes, she whispered, "Yes."

Sighing, Stiles dropped his hand to back hers, tangling their fingers together. "Good, and I'm sorry. You can tear him apart later, alright. I know that Lydia keeping watch over a possibly turning Jackson has you on edge, but you need to keep calm. There are a lot more people here than usual, and Kate's back as well."

Rolling her head on her shoulders with her own sigh, she muttered, "I know. I'll try to keep calm."

Deaton appeared at the front of the Great Hall, standing to the side of his podium, eyeing the Goblet of Fire with more trepidation than a wizard of his standing ever should. He scanned over the heads of his students and the guest schools, finding Stiles at the end of the Gryffindor table. Maintaining eye contact for a long moment, he was only broken out of his reverie when Kate cackled behind him. His jaw tightened as he looked back at the flickering cup.

As silence descended across the hall, Deaton began speaking. "The night you've all been waiting for since the school year began has finally arrived. Tonight, a champion from each school will be chosen to represent their school in the Triwizard Tournament. This is a great honor, and for those chosen, whether you win or lose, you will forever be remembered." He paused as the flames of the Goblet were colored orange, waiting for the first champion to have their name spit from the flames.

The Great Hall was utterly silent, all eyes focused on the Goblet, all breathe held in anticipation of the first to be chosen. When the flames spit out the first piece of paper, a small accordion circle trimmed in gold, they inhaled simultaneously.

Deaton allowed the paper to flutter into his hand. Holding it up and turning it to read the name, he called out, "Allison Argent!"

Cheers rang through the hall from the blue clad students, Allison being pushed to her feet from the center of the group. She smiled shakily, but proudly, eyes darting towards the pack as she stepped up beside Deaton. Her smile only grew wider.

Shaking her hand, he called, "Our first champion!"

The hall erupted into applause and wolf-whistles even as the Goblet shot the next piece of paper towards the ceiling. The hall went silent as Deaton caught it. It was a small scrap of origami paper patterned with pink cherry blossoms against a periwinkle background.

Reading the name carefully, he called, "Yukimura Kira!"

The Japanese school, though more reserved and quiet then their western counterparts, burst into applause and shouts. Kira, who had been standing off to one side, jerked her head up in surprise, staring at Deaton in disbelief. Her schoolmates pushed her forward gently, grinning widely. She stumbled forward, bowing to Deaton as he bowed to her.

"Our second champion!" he shouted as she took her place beside Allison, exchanging surprised glances with her.

As the applause and whistles and cheers died down once more, they waited impatiently for the last name to be shot skyward. With baited breath, they watched the flames color orange once more.

Derek's fingers tightened around Stiles' as the last paper was shot into the hanging candles above, taking its time as it twirled and whirled back down to Deaton's waiting fingers. Resignation dropped Derek's shoulders a moment before Deaton called the last name.

"Stiles Stilinski!"


	20. New Relations

Stunned silence surrounded the pack even as the whole of Hogwarts burst into applause and shouts and hoots more intense than either of the other schools combined. Someone shouted his name from his House table, and he shook himself from his shock. Standing on unsteady legs, the pack tentatively beginning to join in their school's enthusiasm, their voices rising above all the others in one fell swoop. Derek remained silent, only allowing Stiles' fingers to slide from his when he started towards Deaton, releasing a barely audible whine.

The Headmaster forced a smile, taking Stiles hand for a firm shake. "Our third champion!" he shouted above the din.

The hall grew wild. Stiles could hear everything and nothing at the same time. He could hear Melissa clapping and calling his name, he could hear the pack cheering over everyone else, he could hear his House completely losing it behind him. At the same time though, there was a static buzzing over the cacophony, muffling everything coming through his ears. He stood beside Allison and Kira who looked just as shell shocked, if not more, than he did, but also pleased.

Deaton let the excitement die down until the hall was excitedly buzzing. "Once the champions have been briefed, they will be returned to you all, and the feast will, at last, begin."

A cheer went up around the hall that dropped quickly into tittering conversation and grumbled disappointments and laughter just this side of hysterical. Leading the three away, the champions could only helplessly look at each other.

…..

Stiles sat in Deaton's office, a cup of steaming tea warming his hands, the soft swirls of vapor clouding over his face, leaving him warm and his face moist. The mug hung between his knees, his head hanging over it. They'd been silent for several hours, Deaton refilling their cups as they emptied. Stiles wasn't entirely sure that Deaton hadn't switched from tea to Fire Whiskey or some alcohol with a higher proof at some point.

Deaton slumped in his chair, running his hand over his face and his shaved head, staring up at the ceiling. He'd been silent since Stiles wondered in looking lost and forlorn. After the feast, the champions had been swept off into celebratory parties, but Stiles had slipped out of the Slytherin common room after it had devolved into celebratory chaos and he hadn't been able to find Derek.

"We never thought that any of us would have ever gotten chosen. The odds weren't in our favor at all. We just… we just wanted to know that we'd been brave enough to enter our names," Stiles finally whispered, lifting his cup to his lips with shaking fingers, "People **die** in these competitions. I told Derek that it wouldn't matter even if one of us did get chosen, but… it does. It does matter. And you-" He lifted his eyes to rest on his Headmaster, cold and a little disbelieving. "You knew. Even before you caught that slip of paper, you knew that I was the one who'd been chosen."

"I had a feeling, a very strong feeling, that you would be the one chosen. If it hadn't been you, I would suspect that it would have been someone else dearly important to keeping your pack glued together such as Mr. Hale, even though he did not enter his name, or Miss Martin," Deaton sighed, picking up his mug and tilting it back against his lips. Definitely Fire Whiskey.

For a moment, Stiles let his mind slip over the few details he knew of Harry Potter's forced entry as a champion, and wondered silently if something similar wouldn't have happened to Derek if Stiles hadn't been chosen. A prayer of thanks slipped passed his lips silently as he imagined if Derek had been chosen, or Lydia, or Scott. The things he would do to keep them safe extended further than his mind had the capacity to hold. "Are you saying that… someone influenced the Goblet to give my name?"

"The Goblet, though quite a strong magical object, is also easily tricked, and if it was already leaning more in your favor, it wouldn't have taken much to solidify the decision. Who is chosen is not a raffle, a gamble. The champions are based on several weighed criteria," Deaton explained, setting his empty mug back on his desk. He didn't refill it this time.

"Who? Who would mess with the Goblet?" Stiles asked, but even as the words left his mouth, an image of Kate snarling in his face was dredged up from the depths of his memory. He curled his fingers into tight fists.

Nodding, Deaton flipped through a book open on his desk without really seeing what was on the pages. "When I discovered that their Headmaster had brought Kate along with her school, I explicitly told her in several different languages that Kate was not welcome in on our grounds. No matter what I said, told her, she was adamant that Kate be with her, as she was, and I quote, her 'best teacher and her students needed a familiar, kind face to get comfortable'."

"Well, they can get comfortable with her at the bottom of the lake where she can't go setting houses on fire with families trapped in them or setting fire hexes on students," Stiles muttered bitterly. Guilt flickered in his chest though when he thought of Allison's grinning face. Obviously, it wasn't the students' fault that she was an award winning actress. "I wonder if Allison knows that Kate –her aunt?- is a soul sucking harpy."

Deaton chuckled for the first time in days, leaning forward to fill his mug with tea this time. "I doubt it. I have a feeling that Kate wouldn't let even her own niece know the kind of person she is. She lives on manipulation."

"Don't I know it?" They were quiet for a moment, sipping at their tea before Stiles swallowed thickly, eyes darting everywhere but at Deaton. They fell on Headmistress McGonagall as she stared at him with disapproving eyebrows. Jeez, her eyebrow game was almost as intimidating as Derek's. Looking away, he swallowed again. "So, um, Jackson kind of… got bit in the woods today… by a black wolf…"

Any mirth that had been simmering in Deaton's expression evaporated, leaving him looking more exhausted than before. "I know."

"Do you know what's going on? Why people keep getting bitten? If we don't do something soon, whoever it is, is going to kill or change the whole school."

"An assumption, I have an assumption of what's going on. Unfortunately, I won't know anything definite until I have a small talk with an… acquaintance of mine," Deaton explained, pulling himself upright in his chair and standing.

Stiles licked his lips agitatedly. "An acquaintance as in a teacher at Hogwarts?"

Deaton resisted the urge to shoot the too intelligent teen a glare. "Yes, and if I were you, I would keep tabs on Derek. If I am right, you're going to need to keep him close or more people are going to start getting hurt and/or turned. As for the questions I assume you have about yourself –yes, I know how the summer went- those will have to wait for another time." Stiles gaped up at him as he stood, coming around his desk to stride towards the door. "I will answer them to the best of my ability, but you have your first task to think about, Quidditch practice to get to, and a boyfriend to keep an eye on."

He paused just outside the door, looking over his shoulder at Stiles. "Oh, and it would be in your best interest not to miss Quidditch practice from now on. On the subject of your unasked questions, come back at the end of the year when you've practiced with your new ability a bit more." Without giving Stiles time to reply, he closed the door to his office and slipped off to only Salazar Slytherin knew where.

"What does that even mean?" Stiles shouted, glaring after him, "That didn't answer any of my questions!"

…..

Stiles aggressively flew through the drizzle that fell lazily over the Quidditch field. Anger and annoyance and just wanting to hex Kate so badly she'd never be able to get off again for returning flooded his muscles, pushing him faster. He took turns as sharp as he could, discovering new ways to tighten them. He made a game of trying to see how many rain drops he could dodge. The game was going well until the drizzle became a torrential downpour. He couldn't see a foot in front of him, let alone the grounds or the stands.

Sighing, he settled into gliding in a small circle in the middle of the field until he was soaked through to the bone. Slowing to a stop, he dropped his head back, reveling in the rain washing over his upturned face. "What am I going to do, Mom?" he mumbled, shoulders slumping and broom drooping beneath his lack of enthusiasm. He stayed like that for a long moment before he heard the calling of his name.

"Derek?" he called into the rain, dropping his head forward onto his chest. He wiped water from his eyes, squinting into the sheets as if he'd be able to see through them better. He was nearly upended when Derek came up beneath him, wrapping an arm around his waist. A squeak he'd never admit to slipped passed his lips. "Derek, what are you doing out here?"

Derek stared back at him, eyebrows pulled together in confusion and something akin to hurt. "I was worried about you. I haven't seen you since the Slytherins dragged you away. I went to ask the Headmaster because someone mentioned that they'd seen you going up to his office, but when I asked him, he said he hadn't seen you since he left you in his office several hours ago. When I asked around, everyone said that they hadn't seen you either. I know that you can disappear and not be found if you really want to, but this didn't seem like one of those times. I was just… worried." His voice trailed off, his eyes staring over his shoulder.

Sighing heavily, Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's shoulders, dropping his forehead against his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. Deaton just gave me a lot to think about because apparently he doesn't know how to answer a damn question. I just needed some time to myself to let everything sink in. A lot happened today in a short period of time."

Derek tightened his arm around his waist. "Do you still want to be alone?"

"Yes," Stiles mumbled, amending his response when he felt Derek tense against him, "But you're not everyone else. I want you to stay, if you feel like flying around in the pouring rain."

Derek's body sagged in relief. "I think I can live with that. The first Quidditch match isn't that far away, and I'm a bit out of practice." Pressing a kiss to Stiles temple, he muttered, "Oh, and I thought you should know, Jackson is awake, healed, and royally pissed at being attacked. Lydia is also pissed because you didn't come to her immediately to tell her that you were chosen."

Stiles groaned loudly, more at the fact that he was going to get an earful from Lydia later than about Jackson, but whined anyway, "But that means he's a werewolf."

"Yep."

"It took me all summer to get all of the pack members to act at least somewhat civilized on the full moon. Do you know what Jackson's presence is going to cause? It's going to cause a fucking uproar. Where am I supposed to hide bunch of hormonally unstable werewolf teenagers?"

"I suppose we'll just have to find a place, won't we?" Derek asked, chuckling as he pressed his lips back to Stiles' temple, "Don't worry, I'll be here to help you this time."

"You fucking better be," Stiles muttered irately, pressing his face into Derek's chest with a disgruntled growl.

Derek laughed, releasing Stiles from his hold and kicking away from him. Waggling his eyebrows, he called, "Catch me if you can," before disappearing into the rain. Rolling his eyes, Stiles tore after him, all thoughts of Kate and the tournament and Deaton's words to him forgotten for the time being.

…..

"What is Quidditch like at your school?" Allison asked Stiles curiously as she, Kira and he sat in the library, the only quiet place they could find away from their schoolmates and friends and teachers and everyone in between. They'd been discussing the first task, what it could be, what they'd have to do.

Both Stiles and Kira looked at her quizzically, their eyebrows already pulled together from their completely bafflement over the Tournament.

"What? I've only ever seen professional matches. We don't really have Quidditch teams at my home school," she explained with a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders, "Everyone's a little too prissy for that and we don't technically have the room for it either, though we do play some of the really dangerous muggle sports when the number of fights in the school increases." She shrugged again.

Stiles smirked, imagining Allison's schoolmates getting decked out in pads with lacrosse sticks and the hard, wooden balls instead of the hollow plastic ones and just going to town on each other, braking nails left and right along with a few bones. "Well, I mean, I guess it's not that much different from professional Quidditch. We have four teams, one to represent each House. We play matches against each other on the Quidditch field. We all usually cheer for our own House, but if your House isn't playing, and you have friends in one of the Houses that is, you cheer for whoever you want. Really, Quidditch matches are sort of an all day thing for us. Classes get out early and everyone packs into the stadium and we celebrate or despair after. It's fun."

Allison grinned, tilting back on her chair legs as she imagined it. "It sounds fun. Are we… are we invited? To come cheer you guys on?" she asked tentatively, looking to Kira instead of at him, "You know, since there's a match coming up soon."

"Yes, of course you can come, you're our friends. Even if you weren't, why would we tell your schools that they're not allowed to come share in the excitement and fun of a match?" Stiles explained as if it was obvious.

They grinned back at him. "Slytherin is going to be playing Gryffindor this match, right?" Kira asked, resting her elbow on the book open beneath her. She'd been staring at it blankly for the past hour. It seemed to be getting better use as a pillow than it had when trying to provide information.

"How does that work with everyone? All of you guys seem really close, but it has to be tense when the season rolls around," Allison said, resting her chin on her folded arms.

"Actually, yeah, it gets really tense, but you can't really do anything about it. We all just kind of fight it out or give up after awhile. It's all fun and games until we're at the match. Then we all become throat-cutting back stabbers until a winner for the match had been decided," Stiles explained, grinning as he remembered last year when Erica had gotten so animated about how Slytherin was obviously going to win against Hufflepuff that she, Isaac and Boyd had sent jinxes back and forth at each other for a week until the match was determined. "It doesn't help that a lot of our friends are part of the teams."

Kira laughed, soft and gentle, while Allison laughed a little louder, covering her smile with her hand. "That sounds like a conundrum in and of itself," Kira said, grinning widely.

"Don't worry. If you stick around, you'll both get to witness what a clusterfuck we become," Stiles told them with a grin of his own.


	21. A Short Coma

"What's going on?" Kira shouted over the din of the crowd, a grin spreading her lips wide as she pumped her fist in the air, "Go Stiles! Go Derek! Go Scott! There's too many people to cheer for!"

"I don't know, but it's fun! Just shout 'go, team, go'!" Allison shouted back at her, her hand thrown into the air with Lydia's. Isaac stood behind her, shouting for Stiles and Scott instead of his alpha. "Go, team, go!" she shouted, giggling as Lydia wrapped her arm around her waist, dragging them close together.

Her fingers pressed into her mouth, Lydia whistled high and piercing. "Go, Cora! Beat them, hon!" she shouted. Cora swerved high above them, darting towards them. She slowed to a stop before them, Lydia dragging her forward into a kiss that was better suited to privacy before releasing her with a quick, playful slap to her upper thigh. Cora growled, wanting, before flying back into the fray, spotting the Snitch immediately.

Kira grinned, laughing wildly as she called to Scott again.

The game had been a mess for near the entire hour they'd been playing. The bludgers had already taken out five people, seeming particularly vicious that day, chasing after one player in particular until they had unseated that player or knocked them out completely. The snitch had been particularly devious, disappearing under or into people's robes, making them scream in surprise. Once every few times around the stadium, it dunked itself into a steaming beverage, popping out in a fountain of hot chocolate or tea or what have you. The quaffle, though usually not mobile unless it was being thrown from player to player, jumped from players' arms seemingly at random, landing on the field every few passes or throwing itself at the other team like a puppy trying to grab for a toy. It only seemed to settle in Stiles' or Derek's grasp.

' _Ten points goes to Slytherin_!' the announcer shouted enthusiastically as Stiles kicked the quaffle passed the goalie, hanging upside down from his broom. He righted himself, grinning.

Releasing a hoot of victory, Stiles spun around on his broom, ready to take off toward the middle of the fray. One moment, he was grinning, laughing as Derek flashed predatory red eyes at him from across the field to Erica and Danny's shouts, and in the next, his eyes went wide with terror before going blank. The pack watched, as if in slow motion, as their alpha's mate slid sideways from his broom, plummeting through the sky.

The last things Stiles' remembered hearing was the screaming of spells, the shout of his name, the call of the announcer, ' _Slytherin has caught the snitch! Slytherin wins_!' Searing, unbearable pain squeezed into every crevice of his being, smothering his consciousness into silence.

…..

"Bring him over here! Hurry! All of you, get out! Go! You'll all be fine!" Melissa shouted frantically as they dragged Stiles through the Medical Tent they'd help set up outside the stadium before the start of the game. She pulled a cot into the middle of the tent, throwing herself at her potions and herbs and everything she would need that could, and hopefully would, help Stiles. "Strip him! He's burning worse than his third year fever! We need to bring it down before it does permanent damage!"

"This is going to do permanent damage?" Derek asked numbly, his knees going weak as he stared down at his mate. There was a piece cracking in his being, an essential part that allowed him to function as a normal human being. If that piece shattered, he didn't know what he'd do, but he knew someone would have to kill him before he stopped.

Melissa snapped her head up at him from where she crouched over her supplies, tears trembling on the edges of her lashes. "Not if you help me bring down his fever," she snarled fiercely, shoving a bottle with liquid so white that it appeared blue. The bottle was freezing, nearly burning his hand. "Wrap that in a cloth and press it first to his forehead, then his throat, then the back of his neck and so on. Hurry," she instructed, voice even and pragmatic even if her eyes showed a mother shuddering at the impending death of her child.

"Stiles, Stiles," Derek whispered, doing as he was told, voice cracking with every utterance of his name. The pack was crowded around them, even Jackson despite still being disgruntled at his new pack status, each needing to have their hands on one of them. Allison and Kira stood on the outer edges, staying out of the way. Their eyes were wide and terrified.

"You're strong, Stiles, so strong. I know you can get through this," Lydia murmured over and over, carefully stripping Stiles of his emerald and silver uniform with the help of Danny and the twins.

Melissa, still pulling potions and herbs from her bag, setting them up on a table together, threw a few rags at her son. "Get those wet and get rid of all of the blood you can," she instructed, "I need to make sure that his skull is fine before starting anything major."

Scott looked around lost for a moment before Isaac filled a bowl with water, warming it and bringing it to Scott. He gave him a grateful smile, dipping the rags in. He began gently wiping away the blood that coated the back of Stiles' head, forehead and neck. Even with all of the spells working to slow his descent, he'd still hit the ground with enough force to make the entire stadium wince. "Stiles, you're my best friend, my family, my brother. I don't know what I would do if I lost you. You have to pull through this, not just for me, but for everyone. You're family needs you."

The Slytherin and Gryffindor teams milled around outside the tent flaps, peaking in curious, nosy faces. They'd broken away from the teachers herding the rest of the schools back into the castle.

Allison and Kira glared at them in disgust, reaching for their wands as one of them stuck a camera through the entrance.

Melissa's head snapped up as the flash went off, anger clouding her vision. "Someone get them out of here and keep them out of here! Confiscate that camera!"

Boyd, Erica, Cora, Jackson, Allison and Kira converged on the clustered teams, shouting and using their wands to create force fields and push them back. Erica and Jackson tore after the offending camera, snatching it from the boy's hands. Erica crushed the camera in her clawed fingers, raising her hackles at him when he threatened to curse her. "Just try. When Stiles is better, you'll wish you were dead. And if he can't do it, Lydia will," she spat.

The boy recoiled, paling at the thought of being on the receiving end of a pissed off Stiles' or Lydia's hex. He'd be taking himself to the Hospital Wing with his arms and legs in all the wrong spots, and that was if he was lucky. Scrambling away from them, he took off at a sprint towards the castle.

Rejoining the others, their eyes flashed in warning.

In the tent, Melissa stood over Stiles. "Alright, time to get started," she whispered, taking a deep breath and reaching for her first potion.

…..

Derek stood beside Stiles' bed in the Hospital Wing, fingers curled in Stiles' motionless ones, knuckles pressed white against his skin. Biting his lips, he withdrew his wand with trembling fingers, casting his patronus. His wolf burst forward, standing on his hind legs to press his paws to the edge of the bed. Jumping up to curl into Stiles' side, his wolf whined deep and continuous in the back of his throat.

"I know," Derek whispered, dropping his wand hand to cup under his wolf's muzzle. He struggled to hold onto his happy memory, one of Stiles grinning, laughing as his skimmed his nose along Derek's jaw. "I know."

On the bedside table, Stiles' wand glowed weakly, his wolf dragging herself from his wand tip. She struggled to lift her weight, collapsing across Stiles' body so her nose was mere centimeters from the nose of Derek's wolf. A whine whistled through her nose as weakly as her movements. Her light was faded, her image barely a wisp of what it usually was.

"Jesus," Derek choked, a sob lodging in his throat as he stared at their patronuses, so beaten and defeated.

Suddenly, Melissa was beside him, pulling him into a tight embrace, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she pressed his face into her shoulder. "It'll be alright, Derek, he'll be alright. He's strong, and he has all of you. He'd never leave you guys like this. He'll back before you know it, don't worry," she whispered, her voice as hoarse and scratchy as his own.

Despite her soothing words, the sob broke from his chest, followed closely by another, and another. He clutched at her, breathing in her scent, the comforting scent of pack, of a mother, not unlike his own mother's scent. He cried into her shoulder, soaking her robes, as she stroked her fingers through his hair, swallowing back tears of her own.

When he finally pulled out of her arms, a long while later, his ears were burning and his face was a mess. Laughing as only a mother can, she slid the pads of her thumbs beneath his eyes, wiping away his excess tears. She was pressing tissues into his hands in the next second, watching as he cleaned up is face. "He's going to be alright, Derek, you just have to believe in him. If it makes you feel any better, Scott cried in my arms for nearly two hours yesterday." She smiled and turned to go make them a cup of tea.

As his nose slowly cleared, a new scent prodded gently at his senses, a subtle change from Melissa's usual scent. It was a scent without name, without description, one he'd only smelt a few times in his life.

His patronus raised his head at him, eyebrows raised and eyes accusatory, as if to say, ' _You know what that is. Don't look at me for the answer_.'

With a sigh, his mind provided, ' _She's pregnant, idiot_.'

' _Oh, she's pregnant_ ,' he thought easily, nodding to himself, then again with more force, ' _She's pregnant. Scott's mom is pregnant. Oh god_.'

…..

_Stiles was falling, his broom ripped from beneath him, the air pushing against his back. He flailed his arms, plummeting through the sky. His scream was ripped from his throat and thrown into the great beyond, tore away from him with such force that his lungs struggled to suck in any air._

_Voices whispered around him, slipping like water over his ears, encouraging strength, perseverance, survival. Love slid over his aching brain, soothing the frying nerves and burning synapses. Anger poked at him with pitch forks, shooting electricity through his unresponsive muscles. Sorrow had his heart reaching out, pounding harder, blood singing out to comfort them, to soothe those in his pack, and still he fell._

_Desperation had his mind racing, concocting plans that would never work or would only get him into more trouble than he was already. Just as he was reaching to employ Plan A, he slammed into the familiar, scarred hardwood of the Hale house._

_Wheezing, he turned over, clutching at his chest. As he pushed himself up, he came face to face with a younger version of his mother, a mother before he'd been born. She was healthy and grinning, glowing with life. She leaned over a book, scratching messy notes onto a loose sheet of paper, frowning as she twirled her hand through the air in an attempt to practice what she was reading. It wasn't any kind of magic that Stiles had ever seen, but more of the kind that Deaton would perform as an Emissary._

_He scrambled away from her, chest heaving._

_An equally young Talia by the looks of her stepped into the room, grinning. She sprawled out beside Claudia, tucking her fingers into the fold of Claudia's knee. "You're really taking this training seriously aren't you? It's amazing to see you so focused on something."_

_A smile as wide and bright as the sun split across her face. "Yeah, of course," she said, slapping her hand unnecessarily hard over Talia's stomach, making the other woman gasp in surprise, "I knew I was always different, I just didn't know how. It's fascinating. Great-great-grandmother told me that we have a rare gift that shouldn't be wasted. She said I could help people with it, and that's exactly what I'm planning on doing. Did you know we can act as Emissaries? That's why we train with them so often? But they don't have the raw energy or type of magic we do? They can only advice and assist, but we can do that and keep the peace, and so much more."_

" _Tell me more," Talia murmured, flipping over to rest her chin on Claudia's thigh. The book pressed open on the floor was gibberish to her, so she turned her eyes up to Claudia's grin._

" _We really good at Divination, but I can't find a reason for that. I think it has to do with how our magic is tied to the moon. When it comes to telling the future though, it's limited to those we consider pack, or the pack we're tied to. So, even though I am what I am and I'm not a werewolf, there's obviously groups of people we're more attracted to than others. That would be considered our pack if we didn't already have one. And if there is a person apart of a pack in that group, we can see major happenings with that pack," she explained, reading off a piece of paper she'd slipped from beneath the pile. "We're kind of like an alpha's mate, even if the alpha already has one, and to be useful, the alpha has to have chemistry with us, even if it's just friendship. If an alpha starts to distrust us, then we won't be useful anymore. If the alpha outright distrusts us, the magic connecting us to the pack will sever. It's painful and can lead to our death in extreme circumstances, but appears to be even more rare than my boyfriend being serious."_

_Talia laughed delightedly, pressing her nose into Claudia's stomach. "Well, that explains why you started smelling even better the more we got to be friends."_

" _Actually," Claudia said in her professorial voice, "That's just a marker of our magic. Though, that's not untrue either. Even to someone who has no chemistry with one of us, our magic will smell quite nice, though it sours if hatred blooms between the pair, though that has to be mutual hatred. The scent gets stronger and more distinct as puberty hits and our magic develops and we learn to use it."_

_Shrugging, Talia mumbled, "Better for the rest of us who have to smell you."_

" _That's true," Claudia laughed, running her fingers through Talia's hair almost lovingly._

_Slowly, with eyes the same liquid amber that Stiles had, she looked up at him. He stared back in surprise and fear, his vision beginning to blacken. With command and magic behind her words, she whispered, "You have a pack to look after. Wake up."_


	22. Progress

When Stiles jerked awake, tears clouding his vision and breath coming quickly, he found Derek at his side as he had so many times before. He was asleep, his head pillowed against Stiles' stomach, arms wrapped around his hips, curled beside him in his cot. Stiles could hear him breathing, but he couldn't feel his warm breath or really anything. The most he could feel was the pressure of Derek's appendages pressed against him.

Groaning quietly, he reached for his wand on the bedside table, needing its reassuring weight in his hand, needing to feel his magic focused even slightly instead of roiling through his body as it was. His arm remained still though. Not even his fingers twitched. Horror crawled up his throat, forcing a whimper through his nose.

"Derek," he whispered silently, the tears already beginning to slip passed his lashes. He tried again, feeling his vocal cords twitch within his throat, but no sound accompanied the attempt.

He couldn't move, couldn't speak, a prisoner in his own body. ' _Derek_ ,' he thought weakly, reaching out for whatever bound them together. He didn't understand it, and he suspected neither did Derek, but he reached, stretching his mind to its limits, reaching out for that warmth that was Derek, that was always with him despite how he'd never acknowledged it. ' _Derek!_ ' he shouted, grasping for that warmth, pulling himself closer to it.

"Stiles," Derek gasped, startling awake. He shoved himself up onto one arm, reaching for Stiles face before he could even see straight. He stroked his thumb across Stiles' cheek, pausing at the wetness that coated his fingertips. "Stiles?" Blinking sleep from his eyes, he glanced up at Stiles, confusion pulling his eyebrows together. "Why are you crying?"

Stiles held onto that warmth, his tears tracking down his face. He closed them, shoulders twitching with a sob that gave no sound.

"Stiles, no, don't cry. You're alright, please don't cry," Derek told him, sitting up, rubbing away his tears with the heels of his hands.

Biting at his lip, Stiles shook his head, the only thing he could still move really. He couldn't suppress his magic. It sparked from his fingertips, arching to connect with the edge of the cot, the tip of his wand, slipping through Derek with an anxious, frantic energy. It sobbed with soft, trembling pleas, ' _Help me. Please, help me. Help me_.'

"Stiles, it's alright. Melissa will know what to do. She'll get you back to normal in no time," Derek coaxed, rubbing circles into the back of his hand with the rough pad of his thump.

Stiles' magic was already leaking from his too fast for him to control. His breath was coming in quick, short gasps, his head tilted back against the top of his pillow as his chest tightened little by little. His magic ran long every surface, skittering across the floor and ceiling, over Melissa's glass bottles and up the windows.

"Stiles," Derek attempted to calm him again, clutching at his hand and pushing against his magic with calming waves of energy, but they dissipated long before they flooded Stiles' body. He couldn't stop the flood of magic when it burst forward, escaping through every crack in the walls and ceiling, and beneath the door. "Stiles, please, calm down," he whispered, his limbs tingling as he cupped Stiles' face.

' _I can't_ ,' Stiles thought miserably, wishing fervently that his panic attack would end soon.

…..

Scott burst through the doors to the Hospital Wing. "Stiles!" he shouted, scrambling towards him on clumsy feet, grasping the edge of the bed with clawed hands. "What happened?" He spoke around the canines protruding passed his top lip.

"You ran here like that?" Derek spat, standing to glare down Scott.

"Like what?" Scott asked, his puppy face slipping into place.

The rest of the pack slid through the still open door, stumbling and falling over each other until they were just a pile lying on the stones. Cora, Lydia and Danny slipped in behind them, shutting the door as they did. "Yes, and so did the others. It's kind of what happens when you don't have any control and suddenly get a distress signal from one of your alphas," Cora griped.

Derek threw his hands towards the ceiling. "I guess we'll just let the whole castle know about us, then won't we?"

"Why does it matter?" Jackson snarled, "What the hell did you wake me up for?"

"He wasn't the one who woke you up, idiot," Cora snapped, watching as Lydia hurried to Stiles side, cupping his face.

Lydia stroked her thumbs beneath his eyes, wiping away his tears. "Honey, what's the matter? What's happened? Tell me how I can help."

Stiles opened his eyes, meeting hers. His breath whistled through his nose in quick, short bursts.

"What did you do?" Lydia snarled, snapping her eyes to Derek. Stiles quickly shook his head in her hands.

"Nothing," Derek whispered, curling in on himself, "He woke up like that. The only thing he can move his head. He can't talk. So far, he hasn't been able to control his magic. I don't… I don't know what's wrong."

"Scott," Danny said, dragging him away from the bed, "Go wake up you mom, now. Hurry."

"I'm on it!" Scott said, sprinting away towards where his mom slept. Isaac loped after him, staring over his shoulder helplessly. The pack crowded around Stiles, watching as Derek climbed into the bed beside him. He curled himself protectively around his mate, stroking his fingers through his hair.

…..

"Can you feel this?" Melissa asked, rotating Stiles' foot slowly. She watched his face closely for any reaction at all. His lips did not even twitch. Sighing, she stood from her stool, tapping him on the nose. His eyes fluttered open, looking to her for explanation. The rest of his group of friends stood on the other side of the bed, watching her anxiously. Smoothing back his hair, she started, "I'm not entirely positive what is going on right now, but I can tell you what I believe is going on. Is that alright with you?"

Stiles nodded, his eyes flickering to the others for the barest of moments before returning to her.

Exhaling deeply, Melissa began. "When you were first brought here a week ago, you were burning with a hex, similar to the one from your third year. That leads me to believe that it was cast by the same person, but this time with a much more malevolent intent. Last time, it seemed only to be meant as a discomfort, as if your body was fighting off an infection. Either that, or the person who cast the hex did not have the power to bring it to its full potential. This time, it was more like fire burning along your nerves, possibly a variation of the last hex. I believe that it caused you major damage this time.

"Your nerves have been singed, to put it simply. It's a possibility that you've been healing for the past week, which is why you are able to turn your head, the closest nerves to your brain save for those actually apart of your brain. The damage does not extend to your brain, as far as I can tell, though it may have while you were in your coma." She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, holding his fingers. "I can only estimate at how long it will take you to heal. It should be about three weeks, if not more. Deaton has agreed not to begin the Tournament until you are fit, not that he really has a choice. I'm sorry about this, sweetie, I really wish I could be of more help."

Stiles smiled gently at her, shaking his head. ' _It's alright_ ,' he thought, hoping the magic sliding across Melissa's skin would translate that message.

She nodded, turning to those at his bed side. "For now, one of you will have to be here at all times. I'll talk to your teachers and the headmaster to excuse the one from the class they won't be in. Before you get any ideas though, I will monitor each person who is here. Only they will get permission to be out of class. If more than one of you it out at a time, I will know, and there will be consequences."

"I'll stay first," Derek told the others before fear could start setting in. They didn't know what Melissa would do, but they knew it wouldn't be pleasant in the least.

The others nodded. "I'll take second," Scott said, patting Stiles' hand affectionately, "Don't worry, buddy, you'll be better in no time."

"I'll go third," Lydia said quickly, bringing out a piece of paper, beginning to write down the order of watches as each member called out their name. "Each day we'll rotate down one. So, tomorrow, Scott will be first around this time, and Derek will be last, that way we won't always be missing the same classes."

Melissa took the list Lydia offered with a smile, patting her hand. "Lydia, you really are a genius, even among Ravenclaw."

Lydia beamed. "I know."

"Alright, all of you, get to class. Stiles isn't going anywhere," Melissa said, shooing them out the doors, "Go on. I've got my own class to teach. Derek, watch over him."

"I will, Madame McCall," Derek told her, lying at the end of Stiles' bed. He ran his fingers along Stiles' shin and up his thigh, moving them back down. "I'm not going anywhere."

…..

"I see that you are feeling better," Deaton commented as he stepped into the Hospital Wing. Lydia had a muggle chess board set up across his lap, moving his pieces when he requested. Stepping over to the bed, he sat down a bag of chocolate frogs and peppermint pasties.

They both looked up, frowning at him. "Well, if you count being able to talk and actually control my magic again, then yes, I am feeling better. Otherwise, not being able to move at all still sucks ass. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to be spoon fed by the twins, or hell, Jackson?"

Deaton smiled. "I can't say that I do."

"Good, I hope you never find out. My pride sobbing in a corner does not rightly describe my mortification." He glanced back at the chess board. "Lydia, move my knight please. Up and to the right."

Nodding, Lydia moved the piece. Just as she set it in its new place, she realized what had happened. "Dammit, you did it again!" she shouted, flipping the board as Stiles cackled, "I'm beginning to think that only time I won was because you let me win." The grin on Stiles' face told her as much. "You fucker," she spat, "I will beat you on my own terms on of these games."

"You love me," he told her, puckering his lips at her.

Rolling her eyes, she stood. "You look like a duck," she told him before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

Deaton watched them, head cocked to the side quizzically. "Well, that's something I wasn't expecting."

They looked to him again, eyebrows raised. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, in a pack of wolves, if one wolf is sick or injured, the others will bring it food, clean it, give it physical attention and affection. That physical contact can actually help speed the healing process. In many ways, it seems, you are unconsciously acting as a pack of wolves would. It is very interesting to see that you guys have become such a tight knit pack in such a short amount of time. It took Talia quite a bit longer once your mother left her pack to get them to the point your pack is at," he explained, gesturing towards them, "It may be the reason you have progressed so well in only a matter of days since waking."

"Well, it's nice to know that my pack cares for me. Was there actually a reason you came down here, Headmaster, or did you just come to visit my sick self?" Stiles asked, grinning.

Deaton shrugged. "I came down here more to ask if Kate Argent has been snooping around. I put a tracking spell on her, and she comes down this way at least three times a day. If I were you, Lydia, I'd start putting up protective spells. Someone should be at Stiles' side at all times. I understand you have been doing so already, but maybe adding another person would be a wise decision. You and a few of the others who are good at protective charms would be ideal, but just someone here will be good. Will you be alright with staying here more often?"

Lydia shrugged. "It won't be a problem for me as long as we continue getting our homework. I can pass my classes without a problem."

"Good, I leave it to you then." Turning back, he stared at Stiles for a moment. "I just have one question for you, Mr. Stilinski, how are you still turning in your homework on time?"

Stiles smiled. "It's a secret, Headmaster. No one knows how I do things."

"That's true enough."

…..

"Derek!" Stiles shouted in excitement as Derek burst through the Hospital Wing doors, breathing hard. His eyes were flashing red, and he was fighting the shift.

"What's the matter? Why did you send me a distress signal?" Derek shouted, skidding to a stop by his bed. He crouched low to the floor, snarling deep in his chest as he stared around.

Lydia sat on the end of Stiles' bed, her legs crossed at the knees, painting her nails and popping pretzel m&ms into her mouth. Where she'd gotten them, Stiles really wanted to know. "I wonder how long it'll take him to realize," she murmured around the chocolate.

"What?" Derek snarled, eyes snapping to her.

"Derek, it wasn't a distress signal," Stiles told him, laughter in his voice, "Come on, look at me, sourwolf."

Slowly standing straight, Derek turned to him. "What was it then?"

"A signal of excitement!" Stiles cried, raising his arms.

Derek stared fixedly at him, a smile spreading slowly over his face. "You can move."

"My arms, yeah, but only large movements. I still can't move my fingers really well. It's progress though. Progress," he crowed, flapping his arms in a gesture to bring Derek closer. He wrapped his arms around Derek's neck, pressing his mouth to his mate's. "Progress," he sighed.


	23. Like Mother, Like Son

"Lydia," Stiles sang silently, reaching out for her individual spark of life as he had with Derek. He'd had too much time to practice, and yet, was making slow but steady progress in learning to handle his new ability. "Come here, Lydia."

A warm hand covered his own, drawing his attention back to Danny who was making a valiant attempt to practice their charms homework, though he was continually getting distracted by whatever he had playing on the phone in his lap. "Hey, what are you doing?" he asked, retracting his hand once he'd gotten Stiles' attention. He glanced back down at his phone with a frown, tapping at it quickly.

Stiles' tried not to feel the hurt that welled up inside of him when Danny pulled away. Danny wasn't his boyfriend anymore and he had a mate, let alone a boyfriend, in Derek, so he knew he had no right to be feeling the way he did, but still, it stung more than he wanted to admit.

"I need to talk to Lydia for a little while, so I'm going to see if she can take over for you," he finally explained, sending another request along their connection.

Danny shivered as some of his request bled into the bond they shared, warmth slipping through his body. "You couldn't just send her a plane, or an owl, or your patronus?" While Stiles had been practicing how to use his new ability, Danny had been trying to learn how to shut out Stiles' magic. He didn't know if he truly wanted to, but it was better to know how to and not need to, than to not know and need to.

"I'm practicing," Stiles replied primly, turning his head to his lifted shoulder and batting his lashes. A grin slid across his lips as the pulse was returned, leaving his mouth tasting of strawberries. While he'd been practicing himself, Lydia had been practicing to see if the bond worked both ways. In most things, they'd found that it had. They'd also discovered that it only worked from one of the pack going to Stiles, but not from one of the pack to another member, such as Lydia to Danny. Their next project was to build a bond using each other's magic that could traverse between members without needing Stiles as a middleman. "She's headed this way now."

Smiling with a roll of his eyes, Danny began to collect the study material he'd neglected. "Oh good, now I can go watch Violet and Garret figure out how to enchant weapons." He deposited an older cell onto Stiles' lap.

"Or you could go make-out with Ethan in the green house?" Stiles suggested with a raised eyebrow, fingers already moving ceaselessly over the new item he'd been given.

Danny pursed his lips. "Ethan and I... are… taking a break," he replied slowly, working his tongue around his mouth as if it left a sour taste along his tongue. "Or I could go watch your best friend and Issac drool over Allison and Kira, and trip around each other because they're confused and don't realize that bisexuality is an actual thing."

Using all his strength to force his face to remain straight, Stiles choked down his laughter. "Yes, or you could go do that. Another thing you could do is try to find some information on the first task for me? Pretty please? Something has got to have leaked by now." He smiled broadly, batting his lashes up at Danny. "The task is only a week away and none of us have heard a word about it."

As Lydia pushed into the Hospital Wing, Danny sighed dramatically. "I think… no," he said decisively, brushing passed her as Stiles' face fell. Turning back at the door with a shake of his head, he called, "Just kidding. I'll see what I can do. Oh, and your favorite shows are on that phone I left with you in case you get bored with Jackson or one of the others."

"Thanks, Danny!" Stiles shouted, his smile returning full force.

"Only for you," he called back, letting the door slam shut behind him.

Propping her hands on her hips, a creature with fluffy feathers perched on her shoulder. It reminded him of a pigmypuff. "What did you call me out of my extracurricular for? I already had watch with you for today."

Stiles waved her toward him, his arms raised, his hands clenching and unclenching in his show of neediness. Sighing, she stepped forward into his arms, leaning into his hug and pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth. "What can I do for you, Stiles?"

"Can you help me up to the Divination Tower?" he asked, resting his head in the crook between her shoulder and neck.

Lydia jerked back, staring at him with eyebrows that frowned as much as her mouth. "The Divination Tower? What would you need in the Divination Tower? Can't you just send someone up there to get it?" she asked, sitting on the edge of his bed, "You're legs still aren't healed enough for that trip."

"I need to use one of the crystal balls, and it would be strange if one just went missing. You know how Professor Argent is. She would know one was missing the moment it was taken from the room," Stiles explained, ringing his hands together. He'd explained his dream to Lydia, Derek and Scott, but he didn't know how much more he would be able explain. He didn't understand it all that much himself.

Lydia rubbed at her brow wearily. "What would you need a crystal ball for?"

"Well… my dreams are clear, but I don't get them all that often, so I thought maybe a medium would be a good way to go."

"Why a crystal ball then?"

He shrugged noncommittally. "Dad said that Mom had an affinity for crystal balls. I figured, just maybe, so will I."

Lydia groaned, sliding from the bed to her feet. "Fine, alright, I'll take you. Are you going to change?"

Blinking at her as if wondering if she'd really just asked that question, he said with as much sarcasm as possible, "Yes, I'm going to struggle out of my comfy pajamas into my clothes just to be uncomfortable up all those stairs." Sliding from the cot, he used Lydia's arm to stand on shaky legs. He still hadn't regained their total function, and even now, he couldn't rightly feel them. He slung the robe Derek had left the last time he'd been on watch around his shoulders, grumbling dispassionately at the way the hem kissed the floor and how it sagged around his shoulders. "You know, this is exactly why I'm always stealing Scott's clothing instead of Derek's. I actually fit into the stuff."

Lydia grinned. "But you sure do look cute, and I'll bet the size difference makes from some amazing cuddling."

Sticking his tongue out at her childishly, he took his first tentative step forward. She pulled his arm around her shoulders, supporting a portion of his weight. "We're not that different in size! He's just a little bit taller than me."

"And a lot more built than you, you scrawny little pixie," she told him without malice.

"I'm not a pixie. I'm like a druid or something, like Deaton except not."

"You know that made no sense, correct?"

Stiles sighed. "Yeah, I know." He stumbled over his feet, catching himself against another cot. Tears stung his eyes, even as Lydia pulled him up straight again.

Staring at him worriedly and wiping away a tear that had escaped from the prison of his lashes, she murmured, "Come on, let's get you into that tower. You can do it."

…..

"Here looks good. It's right by the fire too," Lydia said, easing Stiles into a chair.

He collapsed gratefully into the plush cushion, leaning his head against the back of the chair to keep his tears at bay. His legs trembled, aching from the strain of climbing so many stairs after not having been used for so long. The loss of his freedom and independence ate him from the inside out.

Lydia set a crystal ball, already cloudy through and through, onto the center of the table. Taking a seat across from Stiles, she stared into the crystal. "It's only a little cloudy to me, right now. What about you, Stiles? See anything?"

Taking a deep breath, Stiles sat forward, crossing his arms on the table top. Silence fell about them as they stared into the globe, waiting impatiently for something, anything to happen.

"I don't thi-" Lydia started, but her words fell away as Stiles' vision went black.

…..

_Stiles prowled along the forest floor, his paws falling softly on the fallen leaves and needles. Small animals –'prey' his wolf supplied- scurried out of his path, disappearing into the safety of darkness. The moon, waxing ever closer to full, blinked in and out of view through the tangled branches overhead._

_The unmistakable scent of human, full of youth and strong, flitted across his nose. Excitement and daring and arousal permeated the scent. Laughter rang high through the trees, his ears swiveling to pinpoint the human's location._

_Creeping forward, he crouched low, following the human's movement with narrowed eyes. There were two of them, a male and a female. They laughed and snarled at each other, throwing a round, medium sized object between them. A ball. "This muggle game is so stupid," the girl quipped even as she caught the ball, pulling back her arm to return it._

_"You're still playing though," the boy pointed out, fumbling the ball with a wheeze of air when it slammed into his breast bone._

_"Only because it's the only thing to do out here."_

_"There's plenty to do if you have an imagination."_

_The boy would be good in the pack, if he survived the turn. The girl too, he mused. His wolf raked at him, urging him to give them both the bite, to begin the turn within them, to release the wolf that lurked just beneath the surface of their skin._

_The girl threw the ball at the boy's face. "Don't be a pervert."_

_"I wasn't-"_

_Stiles lunged forward, digging his teeth into the boy's hand. Blood splashed across his tongue, screams filled his ears. "Liam!" the girl screeched, holding her wand close to her body. She stammered, her arm trembling as she attempted a spell. Dirt and leaves exploded between them, and Stiles leapt through the falling debris._

_He was tackled to the ground by another body. A clawed hand curled in the scruff of his neck, dragging him through the trees and slamming him into a tree. He struggled back to his paws, snarling deep in his throat. The girl's screams were still filling the forest, red sparks bursting over their heads in the night sky._

_A man stood before him, eyes red as the sunset, claws sprouting from curled fingertips. "This is not your territory, Hale boy!"_

_"Nor is it yours," Stiles replied calmly, his hackles settling back into place._

_"It is more mine than yours. Your territory is in Beacon Hills. Leave this to me. You've already stolen two of my betas."_

_Stiles laughed nastily, exposing his teeth in a sneer. "You didn't keep a tight enough hold on them. They are my pack now."_

_The man glowered. "As, it seems, are all of the young ones that you've been turning. If you're not more careful, you are going to end up killing one of them, and then we'll all be screwed."_

_"My territory and pack are being threatened. I need them."_

_"We are surely being threatened by the same thing, or the same family, then."_

_"It appears so." They stared each other down for several long moments, listening to the girl sobbing, the boy groaning in pain, off in the distance and the rustle of the trees._

_The man turned, gearing up to lope off into the forest, but paused, turning back. "A piece of advice for you, Hale boy, I would keep that peculiar mate of yours close. There are people who are invested in destroying your pack, and will not hesitate to use him to their advantage."_

_Stiles balked. "What? Stiles? Is he in danger?"_

_A smirk lifted the corners of the man's mouth. "He is always, and has always since the day he came into this world, been in danger. Be careful, Hale boy, or I may just steal him as my own."_

_Stiles released a bark of fiery._

…..

Someone violently shook him, calling for him in sharp, piercing cries. "Stiles! Stiles, wake up! Stiles, come back to me! Stiles!"

He floated in and out of the darkness, his head rolled back against his neck. Blood coated his hands, filled his mouth. Pain exploded through his abdomen as if he'd been stabbed. Lydia's screams filled his ears. Fire burned through his body.

There was blood every, coating everything. The bodies of his friends surrounded him, their dead eyes staring accusingly up at him.

There was Allison, an arrow protruding from her abdomen. There was Kira, her arm ripped from her body, blood pooling beneath her. There were the twins, their bodies broken at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower, Danny clutching at the front of Ethan's cloak. There was Cora, severed in half as Laura had been. There was Jackson, his throat ripped clean from his body. There was Malia, her lower jaw ripped from her body, her snout covered in crimson. There was Isaac, Erica and Boyd all crumbled over each other, slashes exposing the white bone beneath their faces. There was Scott, torn to shreds across the leaf strewn grasses of Hogwart's grounds.

And then there was Derek, his body burned nearly beyond recognition, his flesh just barely clinging to bone.

Stiles stared down at his trembling hand, a scream crawling up his throat.

"You should have stayed out of it," a voice, too sweet with triumph cooed over him. A wire wrapped ever so gently around his throat, fire burning along it's edge. Throat straining against the wire, his scream continued long and interrupted. "You should have let him to me." The wire snapped taut.


	24. Let the Task Begin

Lydia's arms were crossed tightly over her chest, glaring with steady fury at him. That had been her pose for the last week or so, since she'd shaken him from his visions in the Divination Tower. He could almost hear her grinding her teeth from across the table. He leaned into Derek's side, trying to hide from her rage and the inevitable fact of the first task. His legs were as weak as when Lydia had helped him from his bed and to a crystal ball.

Glancing up, he caught Allison's and Kira's eyes across the Great Hall. They smiled wanly at him before returning to pick meekly at their breakfast and murmur one word answers to polite questions. He grimaced once they'd looked away, pushing his plate towards the center of the table.

The pack paused in scarfing down their breakfast, staring at his plate in a mix of horror and concern. Derek's arm tightened around his waist, fingers kneading gently at his side. Lydia's face dropped, her arms sliding to hug her waist.

Scott gaped at him, mouth hanging open, a whole piece of toast sitting on his tongue. "Stiles... you're not hungry?" he garbled, horror tinging his nearly unintelligible words.

"Not really. I think I'll puke if I try to put anything in my stomach," he explained, wiping the back of a trembling hand across his lips. Saliva pooled in his mouth, and he swallowed thickly to clear it. The simple fact that the full moon was right around the corner, less than a week away, was not helping in the least. His pack hadn't begun to exhibit their usual myriad of symptoms preceding the full moon, but Stiles' had already begun to feel its inevitable pull and was beginning to regret cementing his mate contract with Derek. He wondered idly if there was a delete button, or maybe a restart button.

Derek pinched his side playfully, narrowing his eyes at him. "I can feel you thinking unfaithful thoughts about me, you know."

Stiles grinned, bumping their foreheads together. "I'm not actually considering it. You know I love you. And if I had to do it all over again, I still would." Smiling, Derek closed the distance between them.

One of the others, presumably Cora or Malia or Aiden, gagged loudly. "Mom, Dad, stop it. That's gross," Erica whined petulantly, laughing uproariously, the others joining her quickly. Laughing along, Isaac slapped Scott on the back as he choked on his food.

Liam glanced over his shoulder at them from the Hufflepuff table, his eyes curious and lonely. His eyebrows colliding in the middle of his forehead, and he twisted around quickly, shoveling his food into his mouth.

After he'd been brought into the Hospital Wing and healed by the next day, Stiles and Scott had attempted to explain to him what had, and was about, to happen to him, how he would begin to change. Scott had even given a brief demonstration. After they'd woken him up when he'd passed out, he'd vehemently denied his new werewolf status. Stiles had kept a close watch on the thread that connected him to the pack. He'd see if Liam was still denying in a few days time when the moon, full and at her peak, called to her children.

"You should really eat something, even if it's just a banana," Danny coaxed, indicating the bowl of fruit in front of them, "You're going to need your strength today."

"Yeah, strength for ignoring pointed questions from concerned friends who saw him basically have a seizure when they took him to a certain tower because he begged them," Lydia spat, her scowl firmly replaced on her face.

Sighing, Stiles plucked a banana from the bowl of fruit, peeling it and stuffing it whole into his mouth if only to escape having to reply. He was still chewing when he eyes caught on Kate Argent watching him idly, his spine snapping straight. Swallowing, a snarl to rival Derek's rose in the back of his throat as he half stood, shifting his body to shield Derek. Beneath his shirt, his mother's ring warmed against his sternum, glowing faintly through the material. A self-satisfied purr vibrated his chest as she startled back, her eyes narrowing after a moment.

"Stiles," Malia hissed, snapping her fingers in front of his face, "You're eyes are doing it again!"

Blinking, Stiles slowly lowered himself back into his seat. He kept eye contact with Kate until she glanced away. "Bitch," he muttered under his breath, turning back to the others, "She can go fuck herself with a cactus before I ever let her lay a finger on one of you." His pack stared at him. "She's fucked over enough families already. I won't let her screw up my new one. When I can't, can you guys keep an eye on Liam, Kira and Allison? I wouldn't put it past her to go after people who are becoming pack."

Lydia twirled her wand in her fingers, glaring at Kate. "I think... a confundus charm will do quite nicely. Or... don't you think it would be hilarious if she couldn't talk straight for a few hours?"

"Do it," Stiles snarled viciously, glaring at the offending woman. The pocket of his robes that housed his wand began to smoke vigorously.

"Derek, Derek, get his wand out of his pocket!" Danny said frantically, standing from his seat to lean over the table. "Get it out of his pocket before he sets his robes on fire again!"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "That was _one_ time."

"Yeah, one time too many," Cora snapped, "I'm still scared from seeing your pale ass skin. I almost got blinded!"

"Stop your bitching," Stiles said calmly, pulling back the magic that trembled across his skin. Immediately, his wand ceased burning yet another hole in his robes. He couldn't control his magic that well all of the time, but he was getting better. He was having moments like it more and more often.

Before Cora could spill acid from her mouth, Headmaster Deaton stood from his seat. "It is just about time for the first task to begin. We must remove the Champions from your presence, but you will have them back soon enough." He raised a hand, a door off to the side of the head table swinging open. "Champions, follow us. The rest of you may head out to the grounds. You will find the first task being assembled out by the Quidditch field."

Shooting to his feet, Stiles squeezed Derek's shoulder reassuringly before following after Allison and Kira.

…..

"This is it. This is how I die. Not by getting my throat cut open or burned at the stake by some crazy, obsessed woman, but like this," Stiles muttered, staring out through the tent flaps. Their tent had been set up so it overlooked the Quidditch field, where they could hear the excited chatter of the growing crowd floating up to them on the breeze. "This is an unexpected turn of events."

Kira punched Stiles hard in the shoulder, fear decorating her face, as Allison shouted, "Don't say that, Stiles! We're part of this too!"

"Did you know," Stiles continued, rubbing at his arm absentmindedly, "That the Triwizard Tournament was discontinued in the late 1700s, 1792 to be exact, because of the high death toll. Champions die all of the time. Cedric Diggory was the last to die in the 1994 tournament. I wonder if any of us are going to die in this tournament. With my luck, it'll be me, so don't you two worry." He placed calming hands on their shoulders, his magic running across their nerves, and almost as if against their will, they began to calm.

Kira glared at him. "I really hate you sometimes. Why would you say that?"

"It's just some facts I know. You should know your history before you go into battle."

A man cleared his throat behind them. The trio turned, fully expecting it to be Mr. Yukimura or Deaton. Who they were confronted with had Stiles shouting, "Dad!" and throwing himself into the man's arms.

Sheriff Stilinski wrapped his arms around his son, holding him close to his body. "Hey, son. How are you feeling? How's Scott doing? I heard that you've been causing Melissa a lot of trouble lately."

Pulling away, Stiles grinned at his father. "Well, since I can't cause you trouble, I have to cause Mama -I mean Madame- McCall trouble."

The Sheriff raised an eyebrow at him. "By getting hexed into a coma?"

"Not my fault. I was playing the Quidditch match, minding my own business, beating Cora at her own game, and then BAM! I was waking up in the Hospital Wing, unable to move anything but my head. I didn't do any provoking to get hexed this time."

The Sheriff sighed, ruffling Stiles' hair. "The fact that you have to say 'this time' is an indication that you need a keeper. So, how are the others?"

"They're good. Everyone's good, better since we met back up with Derek on the train." The Sheriff nodded, glancing over Stiles' shoulder to Kira and Allison standing behind him. "Oh! Dad, this is Kira and Allison. Allison and Kira, this is my dad. These are the two amazing girls that I'm going to be competing with and against. They're definitely going to smoke me, so don't hold your breath on me actually winning this thing."

"Nice to meet you. Sorry that my son is such a strange one. He gets it from his mother." The Sheriff shook Allison's hand when she offered it, and bowed clumsily when Kira bowed to him.

"Hey!" Stiles shouted indignantly, "How'd you get here anyway? Or more importantly, why are you at Hogwarts?"

"Deaton contacted me when you were chosen as one of the... what are they called?"

"Champions?" Kira supplied helpfully.

"Yes, that, one of the champions, and asked if I would like to come and watch. Well, I couldn't exactly give up this opportunity to come and see magic in action."

Glancing away, Stiles muttered conspiratorially to Kira and Allison, "Or to see his boo, Mama McCall." Pressing their hands to their mouths, they turned away to shield their laughter.

Deaton cleared his throat beside them, dragging their attention towards him. "It is nice to see you again, Sheriff. I hope you enjoy your time here with us. The task is about to start though, so Madame McCall will show you to your seat."

Melissa stepped out from behind him, smiling sympathetically as the trio snapped straight, terror sinking back into their bones. "You'll all do fine. I believe in you, and so do your friends. Just do your best." She waited until they gave her each a jerky nod before striding towards the tent flaps and holding one side open for the Sheriff to follow her.

Stilinski dragged Stiles back into his arms, hugging him tightly before pulling away. "You'll do great. You are your mother's son." Squeezing Stiles' shoulder, he caught up to Melissa, falling into easy, familiar conversation with her.

Stiles stared after them, watching as they closed the distance between them, their shoulders brushing as they walked. They reminded him of his parents before his mom got sick, when she was still present in her mind. They reminded him of how Danny and Ethan acted, how Isaac, Scott and Allison had begun to act. He wondered if that's how he and Derek looked when they were together. One of the others, it felt like Derek from the magic, sent him a soothing wave that washed through him.

Huffing, he turned back to Deaton. "So, Headmaster, how's this all going down?"

"Let's wait for the other judges to arrive before we proceed. They should be here in a moment. They were walking out here last I saw."

Swallowing thickly, Stiles looked back out to the Quidditch field. "Will this be dangerous?"

"It will be more dangerous for some of you than others," Deaton conceded, "But we have placed sentries in each box and throughout the crowd to deter any foul play from the spectators." They were silent for a moment, listening to the screaming and laughter and talking of the crowd. "Ah, there are the others now." Stepping back from the tent flaps, he looked over the trio. "Are you three ready?"

Shuddering, Stiles nodded, gripping his wand until his knuckles pressed white against his skin.

The other judges and headmasters gathered around them, standing behind the trio, watching Deaton expectantly. "Champions, we are on the precipice of your first task. The Triwizard Tournament it about to begin. Are you ready?" The trio nodded. "Good. Your first task will be a collection of objects. You will have thirty minutes to collect as many objects as you can manage. At the end of the thirty minutes, or if you three collect all fifteen objects before the time is up, you will be allowed to keep the objects and use them in your next task. Some of them are potions, some of them are books, some of them may even be a creature or two. These items have been placed around the grounds and in the castle. Markers have been attached to each object to advertise its location. A bonus object has been placed in the Shrieking Shack, but there is only one way in and one way out. The clock will run for two minutes after all fifteen items are collected, which will be your time to search for the bonus object. Once the thirty minutes expires, if all objects are not collected, no time will be given. Whoever has collected the most objects, or the champion who collects the bonus object, will be deemed the winner of the first task. Any questions?"

"Yeah, just one," Stiles said, his hand shooting into the air, "What kind of object would you stick in the Shrieking Shack? And what kind of trap, because there's obviously going to be an obstacle or something?"

Deaton only smiled at him.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned to glare at the offending appendage, then it's owner. "Who just goes around touching people? Rude," he spat, shrugging out from under the hand of the Beauxbatons' headmaster.

She sneered at him. "There's no reason for you to worry about such a thing. You are obviously too dense for such a task. Miss Allison Argent will be the one to collect the hidden object."

"I believe my champion will be the one to retrieve that object, not yours Madame. Yours is too much of a delicate flower for such a task," Kira's headmaster told the woman haughtily, looking down her nose at all of them.

Rolling their eyes, the trio of Champions turned from the growing argument, pushing through the tent flaps. "May the best witch or wizard win?" Kira asked, smiling as she held out her hand.

Stiles' and Allison stacked their hands atop hers. "May the best witch or wizard win," they agreed, converging for a rib cracking hug. Breaking apart, Stiles grinned widely. "What are we waiting for? Let's get this task start!"


	25. The First Task

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First Task begins and somehow, Stiles’ actually manages to catch somewhat of a break, sort of.

All Stiles wanted to do was run and hide. The roar of the crowd, the weight of Kate's eyes on him, the constant barrage of support from his pack had his head throbbing, his emotions fraying. He stood in the middle of the Quidditch field, Allison and Kira standing back to back with him so they made a triangle. If he turned, would he disappear into a world that only included them? One where they could wait out the Tournament and only reemerge once the carnage had settled around them.

Fingers wrapped around both his hands, squeezing gently with nearly identical strength. It wasn't hard to tell who they belonged to, though. Kira's were small and delicate, soft from being taken care of over the years, but just like Allison's, they were strong and capable. Allison's hands were larger and warm, calloused from years of hard labor or training or a combination of the two. They tightened ever so slightly as the cheers and jeers from the crowd rose as Headmaster Deaton stepped into his box.

Stiles squeezed their fingers back reassuringly before letting them fall, his wand, cool and solid, sliding into the place of Allison's fingers from the depths of his sleeve. ' _It's going to be fine. This is going to be fine. Deaton's taken precautions, and there's more people here than at the Quidditch match. Kate wouldn't dare try something after the match. You'll be fine,_ ' he chanted to himself, wondering if he repeated the words enough times, they would eventually become true. He hoped that if he repeated them enough times, he would start to believe them.

The trio startled as Deaton's voice boomed over the stadium, quieting the crowd. "The champions as they stand before you, only equipped with a wand and their knowledge of magic, will be given thirty minutes to retrieve fifteen items from around the grounds and the castle. If all fifteen items are retrieved before the clock runs out, they will be given the chance to retrieve a sixteenth item from the Shrieking Shack. They may use any spell they know as long as it is not forbidden or an apparation charm. Spectators may **not** assist a champion in need. If it is determined that the champion cannot complete the task, an appointed teacher will give assistance. Champions, are you ready to begin your first task?" He locked eyes with Stiles, conveying a warning or a secret or a message that he was too encumbered, too highly strung to understand.

Raising his wand in unison with Kira and Allison, he found Derek in the stands, drawn to him as the earth was to the sun. He shot sparks the same color of Derek's eyes into he sky. Beside him, Allison sent up sparks as silver as the stars while Kira sent up sparks the exact shade of pink as newly spread cherry blossoms.

Cries of excitement and awe ran through the crowd even though it was a simple spectacle. He wasn't the only one who was highly strung, it seemed.

"The task will begin at the sound of the bell and end with two bells." Numbers, scarlet and eight feet high, appeared above their heads. "Champions, your time... starts... now!" The bell Deaton had mentioned was drowned out by the roar of a beast.

Glancing over their shoulders at one another, they each nodded to each other before darting in different directions, their minds running frantically through a list of spells that would deliver them from the stadium and away from whatever beast was clawing its way from beneath the stands. In moments, Kira sprouted huge, feathered wings the color of snow. With a gasp from the crowd, she soared over their heads, disappearing over one of the Ravenclaw stands.

Screens appeared around the clock, following her progress.

Stiles cursed beneath his breath. His mind was blank, as blank as the first time he'd ever tried to talk to Lydia. He'd been a stuttering, stumbling mess, and knew that no spell that spilled from his mouth in that moment would be articulated enough to produce a suitable outcome.

Somewhere, he couldn't pinpoint from where, he heard Scott and Isaac scream their support for Allison as a broomstick flew into her hands. She wasn't a great rider, she'd told Stiles as much when Scott and Isaac had begged her into a game of Quidditch, but she clumsily straddled the broomstick and found her way from the stadium.

Broomsticks! Why hadn't he thought of that?

He could see the exit from the stadium right ahead of him. Outside that exit, the team tents would still be set up. His broom would be waiting patiently for him, ready to steal him away to collect some prizes for himself. The moment he set foot onto the bridge, a dragon, large and horrendous and snarling, crawled into his path. It was grey as the storm clouds that pervaded mid-summer thunderstorms, its scales shimmering and flashing the bluish-green of lake water in the morning sun. If someone had stuck sapphires in its head, they would be its eyes.

Crying out, he flung himself backwards, landing with a jarring impact on his rear. "Holy shit," he whispered, staring up at the beast as it towered over him, opening its maw wide to destroy his eardrums.

"Stiles!" Derek shouted, and he could see Derek over the dragon's head nearly crawling over the side of the stadium, his eyes burning scarlet, only Lydia's and Scott's arms keeping him at bay.

Though fear owned him, Stiles watched curiously as the dragon's jaws met and it cocked it's head, snuffling the ground around him. A purr droned along its throat. Grinning, Stiles stood, throwing Derek a cheeky grin and a thumbs up.

Derek flashed his canines irately, but settled back into his seat, clutching his wand in both fists. If he wasn't careful, he'd snap it in two like Laura had done when they were Third Years. He told him as much through their bond, and got a gab in return.

Stiles blew him a kiss before stepping closer to the purring beast. He held his arms out to his side, a smirk curling up the corners of his mouth as he felt the alpha that he'd only met over the summer rise, filling his eyes with crimson and his limbs with power. His mother's ring warmed against his skin. "Come on, I know you want to smell me," he coaxed, taking another step forward.

The dragon buried its muzzle against his belly, snuffling up and down and around his body. He ran his fingers over it's scaled skin, allowing his magic to flow out through him, easing any distrust the dragon may have harbored for him. Scratching beneath its chin for a moment, he swung himself up onto its neck. "Alright, Calcifer, let's get moving! We've got a task to win!"

"What?" Cora shouted, indignation and utter disbelief warring in her voice, "Who the fuck names a dragon Calcifer, you raving lunatic?"

"I do!" he shouted back to her, laughing widely as they took flight and his stomach dropped out from beneath him. The marker that Stiles had been too focused to notice exploded in a shower of fireworks over the stadium.

"Stiles Stilinski has secured the first out of the fifteen objects!" the student who did the announcing for the Quidditch matches called from their podium. "There are twenty-eight minutes remaining on the clock!"

Reaching down, Stiles patted the dragon on the side of the neck, spreading more of his magic over its scales. "Alright, Calcifer, time to get rocking and rolling. We've got four more items to snatch up. We'll be fair to the girls. What do you say?"

Releasing a roar of delight on the end of a tail of fire, they soared towards the castle.

…..

The second marker exploded into fireworks moments after they arrived on sight. Allison looked a little worse for wear, clutching a small crystal bottle filled with golden liquid to her chest. She'd replaced her broom, the pieces of her first lying in a pile with the writhing vines of a plant that still reached for her. When her eyes landed on Stiles, they widened before she burst into laughter. "Only you! Only you would figure out how to talk a dragon into giving you a ride!" she snorted, slipping the bottle into an inside pocket of her robes.

Stiles grinned. "You know it. Where's Kira?"

"Off getting a book, I think, from over there." Allison gestured vaguely towards the castle as another marker exploded, and Kira's burst through a window back first, flung towards Allison. They tumbled ass over teakettle through the air until Allison managed to right them. "Here she is."

"Got it," Kira huffed. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair frazzled and her ponytail falling into disarray. She glanced over him. "Is that a dragon? Is that what we heard back in the stadium?"

Suppressing a laugh, Stiles nodded. "Sure is. Named them Calcifer. I'm headed towards Laura's cabin next. What about you two?"

"Back into the castle with me," Kira muttered with a sigh, staring forlornly at the window she'd been thrown threw.

"I think I'll head towards the greenhouses," Allison said, staring at the scattered markers off in the distance.

Nodding, Stiles tried to tune out the commentators voice.

"The champions seem to be... conversing! As if they are strategizing and helping each other! What a strange turn of events! Three items have been collected with twelve items remaining and twenty-four minutes left on the clock! The champions better get moving!"

Rolling his eyes, he focused back on the girls in front of him. "We'll compete for the sixteenth, yeah?" Grinning, his companions nodded. "Let's get this task finished then, shall we?"

Patting the side of the dragons neck, they tore away, streaking through the sky.

…..

"Abort! Abort!" Stiles shouted, throwing spells left and right as they popped into his mind, scrambling onto Calcifer's neck once more. "Up, up, and away! Second star to the right and straight on till morning!" He was spewing nonsense, he knew that, but as they burst into the sky, circling Laura's cabin, he couldn't help his verbal diarrhea. "Seriously, a clutch of pissed off blast ended skrewts? Who thought that was a good idea? Are they trying to kill us? Fuck, I think my eyebrows are gone. Calcifer, are my eyebrows gone?"

The dragon snorted, giving him no answer to his dilemma.

"No help," he grumbled. He could see the object he'd been aiming for clear as day. A book sat on Laura's old table, leather cover glistening as if it were brand new, and the blast ended skrewts were scurrying all over it. They were scurrying over _everything_! The moment his foot had touched ground, they'd literally popped out of the woodwork, well, what was left of it after the cabin had been subjected to the Hales' fury.

To say he'd made a noise that he would have been embarrassed by later would have been an understatement if he hadn't been so terrified. "What are we going to do, Calcifer? Do you think a stunning charm would work?" Muttering the spell under his breath, Calficer veered wildly to avoid the deflection off the skrewts' shells. "Oh, come on! Is that even legal? Why do these things exist?" His wand spat a tongue of agitated fire from the tip, flicking through the air like a whip of blue.

The skrewts paused in their scurrying, staring up at the flame, even as it dissipated.

Raising an eyebrows, Stiles let the tongue of flame spill out, dipping towards the creatures below him. They scrambled over each other, reaching for it, fascinated by the flame. "Oh, I know your game now, little jerks. Drop me right over the book, Calcifer." Focusing his attention on a poor tree right on the edge of the forest, he lit it up like a roman candle, the blue flames consuming it in a spectacular display of destruction, the skrewts forming a ring around it. "I'm sorry about that, tree. Nothing personal."

Scooping the book into his arms, he clambered back onto Calcifer, dousing the flames before they could spread and consume more of the forest.

…..

"Let's see what that marker out there on the edge of the Forbidden Forest is," Stiles told Calcifer, pointing out the marker that nearly bordered the edge of the grounds. "What do you think it is? I'm going to say a magical sword passed down through generations that has to find you worthy before you can pull it from its sheath."

What the marker actually was was... nothing. It was nothing. It marked nothing. It showed the placement of nothing except the stupid tree that it levitated right over, and Stiles was not about to try and uproot a tree as his fucking object. What were the judges smoking when they set out these objects? First a dragon, then the skrewts. Place a book in the direct line of fire to become incinerated? Not the judges' smartest choice. Now this empty ass tree at the edge of the grounds. He could have slapped Deaton.

He felt a nudge along his and Lydia's connection, a spell slipped into his mind like money exchanging hands during a drug deal. It was a 'simple' revealing charm, something they'd found in one of the forbidden books in the library when they were Fourth Years. "What is that supposed to do?" Another more insistent, less requesting nudge shoved at him. Rolling his eyes, he muttered the spell, pointing his wand at the tree.

Nothing. Just like he'd expected. "Come on, Calcifer, le-" he started to say, turning the dragon from the marker, but a shimmer on one of the highest branches caught his eye. A flutter, a ripple in the air, a slight shimmer. "Is that a...?" Leaning down as far as his fingers would reached, he slipped them over thin, iridescent fabric. "Holy hell, it's an invisibility cloak!"

The marker above them exploded. "There are six items left to be collected with fifteen minutes left on the clock!"

…..

Calcifer slammed muzzle first into a force field only a few inches away from their next item, a bottle with glass tainted black by either paint or magic, obscuring the identity of the potion. They flew at the very top of the Divination Tower, the potion bottle balanced on the very tip of the tower roof. The dragon snorted, rearing back and spewing fire into the air in an act of sheer rage.

Calming the dragon absentmindedly with a burst of magic, Stiles stared at the bottle. "This... this can't be a simple as I'm think it is, right?" he asked Calcifer, sliding up the dragon's neck. He ran his hands along the invisible barrier.

His hand pushed through a hole in the barrier the size of his palm. Wrapping his fingers around the bottle, he barrier dissolved around his wrist. "On to our last, buddy," Stiles told the dragon.

He grinned at the announcer shouted, "Despite the vast diversity of challenges the champions have faced, they've each managed to collect four items each before the clock has even reached ten minutes! Looks like we're going to need to use that bonus object as a tie breaker instead of an extra!"

…..

"What the fuck is this?" Stiles groaned, standing in the doorway to the greenhouse. Allison had missed the last marker over the greenhouses, or had entered and immediately said, "Fuck this," because that was exactly the reaction he wanted to give in that moment. Calcifer had left him to his own devices, backing out of the greenhouse on first look.

The greenhouse had been transformed into the nightmare that would be produced if an apple orchard and a jungle produced a hybrid forest. It was dark and muggy, thick green vines creeping along the glass and the ground and around the trunks of apple trees laden with fruit, tangling around Stiles' ankles, tugging him deeper into the darkness. Droplets of moisture pattered all around him. If creatures hid in the foliage, he wouldn't have been able to hear them over the drone of the ever present dripping.

Swallowing thickly, he allowed the vines to drag him deeper into the greenhouse. It seemed to have grown in size, like the tent Laura liked to bring when they went camping at the beach, holding much more than it ever had. It was nearly pitch black when he was brought to a halt in the middle of the forest/jungle/orchard nightmare baby.

"What am I even looking for?" he whispered, squinting into the gloom.

"This," a voice hissed.

Shouting out his surprise, he stumbled back as a snake's tail, wrapped securely around an apple glowing as gold as Scott's eyes did when he shifted, uncoiled in front of him. "Who are you?" he stammered, taking another step back, "What's so great about an apple?"

The voice made a noise that seemed to be a wheezing breath, but Stiles realized, was just laughter mixed with an unnecessary amount of hissing that he was highly uncomfortable with. "What's so special about this apple, you ask? Why, it holds all the information you could ever want to know. It holds."

"Right," Stiles said, dragging out the word doubtfully though his mind instantly darted to his mother and the strange effect his magic seemed to have on certain people and creatures, "And who are you again?"

"Why, I'm the keeper of the apple, don't you know?" A snake's head dropped down beside the apple, it's tongue flicking out, its mouth spread wide as if in a smile. It's eyes drifted through every shade and hue possible until all Stiles' brain could comprehend were two black holes. "I'm very well known in some circles."

Rubbing his fingers along his wand, nodding slightly, he stared off into the darkness. "Right, sure, right. I think I know who you are now. Any chance you'll give me that apple without a fuss?"

The hiss turned threatening. "Why would I do that? That's ridiculous. I would, though, consider giving it to you for a price." The snake stretched out its tale.

Stiles extended his hand until the tips of his fingers brushed the crisp surface of the apple. "Yeah, and what's that price? Maybe we can work something out. I kind of need this apple."

He thought the snake's grin was widening, but after a moment, he realized that it was unhinging its jaws. "Why, your soul, of course!" it shouted, lunging forward.

…..

Calcifer sneezed, wrinkling his nose as Stiles stepped from the greenhouse, clutching the apple for dear life in one hand and his wand in the other. He flicked the end of the snake's tail, still squirming and writhing, from the apple's skin, grimacing as it steamed on the grass. He was covered in stinking, black blood. Poison of the kind that's only lethal if it enters the blood was matted and congealing in his hair.

"I feel you, Calcifer. I smell disgusting. I look disgusting. Who is going to want to kiss my pretty face after this mess, huh? I sure wouldn't." He laughed lightly as the connections with his pack tickled delightedly at him, and the marker over the greenhouse shot golden fireworks into the sky.

The grounds fell eerily silent, and Stiles quieted to listen to the announcer.

"All fifteen items have been successfully collected by the champions with each having collected five. Champions, please assemble before the Whomping Willow to begin your hunt for the bonus object!"


	26. Two Minutes and Counting Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some nightmares are more real than others.

Calcifer and Stiles landed just out of the Whomping Willow's reach, nearly blowing Kira and Allison over. They stared at them, blinking through weary, bloodshot eyes. They looked like they'd been through hell and back, clutching their items to their chests, their wands held unsteadily in their hands. "What the hell is that on you? You smell horrible," Allison commented, wrinkling her nose as he dismounted to stand beside her.

Stiles plucked dispassionately at his clothing, glaring at the blood that coated it. "The blood of a talking snake who tried to eat me. Why do you smell like goblin piss?"

"That's me," Kira said, rubbing at her forehead as if she had a migraine building through her skull, "I don't really want to talk about it. Just know that you're not wrong."

Nodding, Stiles resisted the urge to clarify and instead turned his attention to Allison. She was covered in what looked like plant juices, presumably from the greenhouse, and a thick, white substance that reeked of something Stiles couldn't name. "What's that white stuff on you?"

Allison glanced down at herself, horror flooding her face. "Ew!" she screeched, her hand convulsing around her wand. She was physically holding herself back from flinging her arms wide and tearing her shirt from her body. "Oh god, I need to be out of these clothes right now! And a shower! Right now, Stiles! Merlin's pants, that's disgusting! Ew, ew, ew!"

"Alrighty, Calcifer, remind me not to ask these two about their first trial ever again," Stiles said, glancing back to his dragon. Calcifer snorted, steam curling from his nostrils. "Good dragon! I knew we'd be good friends quickly."

"You know, when you talk to creatures like they're going to respond to you in our language, it just makes you seem like you're missing several marbles," Kira pointed out, rubbing at a greenish-yellow stain that had bleached the black of her clothing. She pouted, dropping the fabric to glance up at him.

Stiles shrugged. "People have thought that since I got here in my third year. It's nothing new. They do respond though, the creatures, they just do it in a way that you have to be paying attention to actually understand."

The pair nodded absently, staring up at the branches of the Whomping Willow swaying restlessly in the wind. It creaked and groaned, leaning towards them.

" _Champions, you will be given two minutes to reach the object placed in the Shrieking Shack. There is only one way in and one way out. You're path has been highlighted before you. Be careful of the things that may be waiting for you. Some nightmares are more real than others._ " Cautious, wary, worried silence pressed in on them. Even the breeze died in the silence. The announcer swallowed loudly enough to be transferred over the grounds. " _You're, uh, you're time starts... now_!"

Gold blazed before the trio, disappearing beneath the Whomping Willow.

' _Reducio_!' Stiles shouted at Calcifer. The dragon shrank to the size of a Great Dane, roaring in protest. "Sorry, buddy, but we won't be able to fit otherwise." Climbing onto the dragon's back just behind his wing joints, he shouted, "Let's go! Excelsior!"

Stiles could almost hear Lydia groan at his misuse of the term through their bond. His cackle of delight morphed into a shout of surprise as the Whomping Willow began swinging, aiming for Allison and Kira as they darted for the entrance. "Holy shit, you two are crazy!"

Allison screamed as she ducked and rolled out of the way of a branch, popping her head up once it had passed over her. "What the hell is going on?" She cursed colorfully in French, rolling again and to her feet.

"Trees shouldn't be able to move!" Kira shouted, hanging on to the branch that had slammed into her middle with all of her strength.

"This is the Whomping Willow!" Stiles shouted at them, "It literally has what it does in its name!"

"Who is that literal?" Allison shouted back, a whoosh of air leaving her lungs at a branch caught her in the chest. She was whisked into the air right along with Kira.

Patting Calcifer along the side of his neck, he said, "Let's go. We can get through this." As Calcifer lifted off the ground, darting towards the entrance, he dodged one branch after another. Stiles called out to the preoccupied pair, "Sorry about this, but I'll see you on the other side when you're done playing with the tree! By the way, stunning charms do work on it!" With the sound of Kira swearing in Japanese and Allison's French only gaining more color, Stiles disappeared through the entrance.

…..

"Alright, I've been down here I don't even know how many times, and definitely know this is not the usual way," Stiles muttered to himself, staring around at the unfamiliar path. They'd been flying down the path for what he was sure had been more than two minutes, and the golden road had disappeared, leaving them in sticky darkness that reached for him, curling around him. "This is strange, don't you think, Calcifer?" he asked. When he got no response, he glanced down, finding only his own two legs guiding him through the darkness.

Slowing to a halt, he stared at his legs, dread and unease becoming close friends in his chest. "Oh, this is not right. This is not right at all," he whispered, turning his eyes back up.

There was nothing before him, and nothing behind him. Reaching out his arms, he moved to his left, searching for the wall. Nothing. To his right? Nothing. If he thought about it hard enough, he couldn't remember hearing the slash of Calcifer's wings through the stale air or the tap of his shoes against stone.

"Really, really not right." Exhaling a deep breath, he continued forward. There was nothing else for him to do. He muttered spells beneath his breath at he walked, spells to clear the darkness, to show him his path, to remove him from whatever oblivion he'd been forced into.

Slowly, but surely, the darkness lightened to the grey just before dawn, and then disappeared all together with the soft flickering of firelight, opening onto a scene that Stiles would not soon forget.

Kate Argent straddled his mother's waist, leaning close to her face as she grinned widely. She had her wrists pinned to the floor. Blood slipped down her chin from a bruising wound on her lip. The blood splattered against his mother's pale skin, pooling in the hollow of her throat.

"You're not going to get away with this, Argent," Claudia spat, her lips pulled far back from her teeth is a feral snarl. Her eyes glowed the color of a dying sun, the light fading little by little. "They'll know you did it. They'll kill you if you touch me." The ring on her finger pulsed feebly and inconsistently.

The smile on Kate's lips only grew wider. "Oh, but I already have." She leaned down further, her lips only inches from Claudia's.

Claudia sneered. Stiles startled back, he'd never seen his mother display such a vicious expression. Pride swelled in his chest.

"Gerard must have really fallen low. Sending a _little girl_ to kill a sick woman. How sad the Argent family has grown. It's a shame, really, and I hope your brother can get away from your poisonous father and actually make something of himself. Maybe Gerard should have sent Chris instead. He doesn't enjoy playing when he'd got a job to do."

Kate bared her teeth at Claudia, lifting her wrists and slamming them into the ground. The sound of shattering bone filled the room, but Claudia's only reaction was the paling of her skin. Her expression did not change, only twitched to show she'd even felt the injury.

"Mom!" Stiles shouted, jerking forward, but his feet had been stuck in place, his voice falling on deaf ears.

"I am not a little girl! I am a grown woman, a grown hunter!" she screamed in his mother's face, "I will kill you and every single Hale that lives in this town!"

Claudia laughed, though a bit strained. "I'd like to see you try. Do you really think you'll be able to get within feet of their home? You're an _Argent_ , and untrustworthy one even to other hunters, at that. You're so stupid that you tried to _seduce_ me to gain my trust."

"Obviously not that stupid if it worked."

Claudia's laughter shook her whole body, her face falling to the side as she gasped for air. "Oh, that is precious. You really think it worked. Forcing yourself onto someone and seducing them are two terribly different things. I'm too weak right now to have fought you off, and you thought that your seduction worked when you shoved me to the ground. You are really a precious idiot. I hope you never procreate." Her laughter died out as Kate's grip on her shattered wrist tightened, and she could only glare up at the younger woman.

"You shut your dirty whore mouth."

"Oh, I'm a dirty whore? Me thinks the pot is calling the kettle black."

"Yes! You are screwing the Hale alpha even with a husband and a son! And she has a husband and children herself!"

Claudia rolled her eyes, and Stiles suddenly understood where he got his flagrant sarcasm from. "Do you really think I would be dying right now if I were in an intimate relationship with the alpha of the Hale pack? Do you really think I couldn't have killed you without my wand if I were? How can you be so stupid? So ignorant? Oh, I wish I were as ignorant as you!" Her voice had risen to a shout. She panted as her words died around them.

Kate ground her teeth. "But you are the emissary of the Hale pack."

"Was," Claudia corrected, her voice turning singsong, "My alpha lost faith in me. That is why I am dying."

"Then why protect them?"

Claudia raised an eyebrow at Kate. "Because they're my family. So, if you're going to kill them, you might as well kill me too." A grin unfolded across her lips. "Unless... you're too scared to fight a dying woman." She shoved Kate off of her, rolling away towards the fire where her wand lay, unattended. Snatching it up, she dragged herself to her feet, her eyes falling on Stiles.

Terror twisted across her face. "Stiles, go! Go now!" she shouted at him.

"No! No, Mom! I won't leave you! I can help!" he shouted back, his voice young and afraid as he stared at Kate's rising form. Kate turned her fury towards him, fire exploding from the fireplace, twisting towards him.

Claudia flung herself towards him, throwing up a shield around them as she fell to his feet. "You have to live, Stiles. There's so much waiting for you in the future. I'm sorry for this, but I love you." She hugged him close as she whispered, ' _Obliviate._ '

…..

His knees buckled beneath him as the first sob slipped from his throat. Crumpling to the floor, he wiped haphazardly at his face with his sleeve. More tears streaked down his cheeks, dripping from his chin as he curled in on himself. "Mom," he sobbed, burying his face against his knees.

"Stiles?" Derek's voice echoed around him. Jerking his head up, he stared at his mate, his sobs slipping away as Derek crouched beside him. "What happened, Stiles?"

Chin trembling, he stammered, "K-Kate, she k-killed my mother. No one ever told me. They told me she died because she was sick, but they were wrong, they lied to me. Kate killed her."

Derek blinked back at him, nodding slowly as he spoke. "Did you try to stop her?" he asked gently, running warm fingers down Stiles' back.

Stiles stared at him, his jaw hanging slack. "N-no, I was really young, there was nothing I could do. Mom wouldn't let me-"

Removing his hand from Stiles' back, Derek stood, stepping away from him. "You could have, you know, stopped her. It would have been easy for you. You could have just gone off like you've done every other time. You could have saved her and kept Kate from killing my whole family."

"You- You know it doesn't work like that!" Stiles shouted, "You know I can't control that any more than children can control their magical outbursts!"

Derek shook his head, turning from Stiles. Already, he could feel his magic slipping from him, his body withering, their mate bond fraying. "Maybe I was wrong to choose you. I don't think you can be an emissary or an alpha. I should have chosen my mate better," he said sadly, taking the first step away from Stiles.

"Why would you say that? I've been doing pretty well for stumbling through this blind."

"No, you haven't," Derek said, glancing over his shoulder with only contempt in his eyes, "You could have been doing so much better than this. I trusted that you could, and you've broken that trust."

There was a sharp, painful tug in the pit of Stiles' stomach, like someone was trying to yank his innards out through his belly button with a summoning charm. He cried out, curling into himself. "Whoever you are, because you're not Derek, you're wrong. Derek would never say something like that, he'd never turn his back on me," Stiles growled, turning burning crimson eyes up to Derek's retreating back, "I don't know who you are, or what you're trying to do, but you're wrong. You're wrong!"

His magic burst from his body without warning, filling the space and burning away the blackness around him until he could see the walls of the Shrieking Shack, could hear Calcifer snuffling around him making rumbling, worried noises. His magic crawled along the floor, across the walls, crackled through the air around them.

The smell of burnt fabric filled his nose, and he glanced down to find that his mother's ring, glowing and heated, had burned a hole through his clothing.

He was going to be sick. Stumbling over to a waste basket, he allowed himself to evacuate what little food his pack had managed to coax into him earlier that morning.

Calcifer pulled at the back of his clothing less than gently as he slumped over the rim if the basket. "I'm fine, Calcifer. I'm fine," he mumbled, batting at the dragon, but he continued to tug, pulling Stiles to his feet. "Fine! Fine! I'm paying attention! What is it?"

The dragon glowered at him, blinking slowly before huffing and turning towards the middle of the room.

" _Champions, there are only fifteen seconds left on the clock! And we're still short a winner_!" the announcer shouted somewhere off in the distance. " _Folks, we haven't seen hide no hair of Stiles Stilinski for nearly the whole two minutes! Do you think he's gotten passed the obstacle that was waiting along their path? We can only hope!_ "

Stiles blinked, staring at the middle of the room. Sitting on a pedestal, a piece of rock -or was it metal? Clay? Wood?- sat, continuously molding and remolding itself into new objects with varying colors and shapes and textures. A ring, a bracelet, a wand, a statue. His mothers grin grew warmer against his skin as if responding to the object.

"Do you... do you think this is the bonus object?" Stiles asked, looking over to Calcifer. The dragon nudged his hand towards the object.

" _Hurry, Champions! You've got five seconds left!_ " the announcer shouted, " _Count down with me, everyone! Five... Four... Three..._ "

Stiles reached out, and wrapped his fingers around the last item.


	27. The Next Step

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so the way the rest of this story if going to go, sixth year is going to be probably back to back tasks with the Yule ball in the middle and maybe a chapter or two to split them up and continue following the murders and attacks and such. Then seventh year, since I don't have anything nasty or nefarious planned (that's all for this year), it'll probably be just two ridiculous chapters, and then a possible epilogue. I've got less than three months to finish this story, so that's my plan.

The announcer's cry of surprise and awe was muffled as Stiles' magic rushed, expanding within him, reaching out towards the object in his hand. His magic stroked the item. It's shifting and morphing sped into a blur until he couldn't tell what shapes it was making any longer.

" _The bonus object has been picked up by one of our champions! Who do you all think it could be? Could it be the skilled Allison Argent?_ " A barely audible roar spread through the air. " _Could it be the talented Kira Yukimura?_ " The stadium shook as the crowd stomped their feet. " _Or could it be the terrifyingly intelligent Stiles Stilinski?_ " The uproar was surely deafening, and Stiles was almost positive half of the noise came from his pack. They were ecstatic. They knew he'd gotten the bonus object, presumably from his surge of magic, and were already celebrating.

He couldn't make himself care, though, as he stumbled from the Shrieking Shack, leaning on Calcifer's neck for support. In the opening to the tunnel leading back to Hogwarts, he found Allison and Kira collapsed. They shuddered violently, sobbing uncontrollably. Kira clawed at the ground, pulling herself away from her invisible horror. Allison curled in on herself, tucking her knees against her chest, covering the back of her neck with her hands.

"Allison, Kira, come on, the task is over," Stiles coaxed, pulling at their arms gently, "We can get out of here now. Everyone is waiting for us."

"Mom," Kira sobbed, "Mom, please help me." She wrapped her fingers around Stiles' wrist, holding onto him for dear life.

His knees buckled as he his own torture rushed back at him, the image if his mother prone beneath Kate Argent filling his field of vision. "No," he growled, yanking his newly found alpha from the depths of his being, dragging him to the surface, "We are going to get out of here."

His vision cleared, and he stood straight. ' _Immobulus_!' he shouted, pointing his wand at the pair on the floor. They stilled, their bodies going rigid. "Let's get out of here."

…..

"Stiles!" his pack shouted, surrounding him like a swarm of mosquitoes in the summer. They ushered him and his three companions away from the Whomping Willow before the distraction spell they'd cast wore off. "You did it! You did it!" They closed ranks around him and Calcifer, keeping the students, teachers, judges and journalists at bay.

Stiles stared around wildly, his lungs refusing the pull of air through his throat. Black spots bloomed across his vision. He called out over their bond for his mate, dragging the spark that was Derek closer to him.

"Stiles," Derek said as he squeezed between Scott's and Lydia's frantic mothering, "You're alright." Diving into his open arms, Stiles buried his face against Derek's chest. Laughing and pressing his nose into Stiles hair, he sighed happily. "Your eyes are glowing."

Stiles nodded his head. "Do you regret making me your mate?" he asked suddenly, tightening his hold around Derek's waist so he couldn't pull out of his arms.

"What? No! Of course not! Why would you think that?" Derek cried, "I chose you to be my mate, Stiles, and nothing is going to change that fact." Nodding again, Stiles finally let himself sag for equal parts of relief and exhaustion.

"Hey, get the hell back!" Malia snarled at the bystanders still trying to reach the Champions, yelling questions and congratulations over her head. They backed away under her piercing glare.

Liam wriggled from the depths of the crowd, popping up between Malia and Cora. He glanced anxiously over the trio as Kira and Allison began to move, Stiles' spell slowly wearing off. "Are they going to be alright?" he asked, "I know its not my business."

"It could be your business, if you'd let it," Malia told him, raising an eyebrow at him before turning back to the crowd. "Hey, what the fuck did I just say?" she shouted, shoving her hands into the chest of towering boy.

He opened his mouth to spit back a retort, but Liam flashed sharp canines at him. "Back off," he snapped, "That's not a fight you're going to win."

"Like I said," Malia said as she turned to follow the others squeezing their way through the suffocating crowd towards the castle, "It could be your business."

…..

Deaton stood in front of the three Champions as Madame McCall sat them each up in bed. The items they'd each collected had been gathered up from where they'd been dropped and forgotten, arranged on the tables spanning across their beds. Calcifer had been shrunk once more to the size of a large cat and lounged sleepily around Stiles' He nodded silently to himself. Each item had been specifically geared towards each Champion, and he was satisfied that they'd collected the ones that he'd set out for each of them. "How are you all feeling?"

"Like I got run over by a truck," Stiles grumbled, staring at the shifting item he clutched in his fingers, "Thanks for asking. It's so nice to know that you care."

Allison laughed, holding her side. "Ow," she moaned through her laughter, "Don't make me laugh, Stiles!"

Kira's laughter joined Allison's. "Ow, ow, ow," she chanted, clutching just above her knee.

"It wasn't that funny," Stiles told them even as a smile pulled up the corners of his mouth, giggles bursting passed his lips pressed tightly together.

Deaton nodded again through their laughter, folding his arms in front of him, grasping his left wrist. He waited for the lull before continuing. "You all seem to be well. How do you feel about the first task?"

"It was absolutely perfect. Loved the part about watching my mom die and my boyfriend telling me that it was a mistake to choose me. Absolutely loved it. Oh, and the talking snake that tried to eat me, definitely my favorite part," Stiles said, his voice heavily laced with sarcasm, sending the girls on either side of him spiraling into another fit of laughter.

"Well, you seem to have gotten through the obstacle relatively unscathed."

"Yeah, for this stupid thing. Why is it so important? What does it even do?" Stiles held up the shifting object, staring at with unfocused eyes.

Deaton stepped forward, holding out his hand for it. "This object is very rare, very valuable, and very picky about who it allows to own it," he explained as Stiles reached to drop it in Deaton's hand. It hung suspended between their fingers, refusing to touch Deaton even as Stiles forced it towards his skin. "Despite passing through many hands, if it does not resonate or accept your magic, it will refuse your ownership."

Stiles gaped at the item, pulling it close to his face. "Almost like it's sentient."

"Nearly," Deaton agreed, "Even if Kira or Allison had gotten to it first, there was no guaranteeing that it would allow them to own it." It wouldn't have, he was sure. He was only positive that it would pass ownership to Stiles because that's how it had worked for Claudia. It was a tool of their trade, a characteristic of their magic. There were few beings who were not compatible with their magic, and some who were more compatible than others. "The longer you hold it in your possession, the longer you use magic around it, the more it'll learn about you. Eventually, once it deems you to be ready, it will stabilize into one form."

"So cool," Stiles breathed before lowering his hand and looking at Deaton, "But what does it do? What's its purpose? Why is it important?"

"Like your wand, it acts as a way to focus that raucous magic of yours. Not in the sense of casting spells though. You remember your summer? What happened?"

"How could I forget?" Stiles asked sweetly, "It's not every day that your friends try to kill you, but it is every month." Allison and Kira dissolved back into gasping giggles, covering their mouths with their hands. "Did Mama McCall give you something for the pain, because I'm feeling really left out with how good you guys seem to be feeling?"

"Yes, well, this will help focus that type of magic, and will be quite helpful if you start training as an emissary. Though, with your current position, that doesn't seem as needed as when your mother was training."

Stiles stared back down at the object, curling his fingers protectively around it. "Did my mother receive this when she was training?"

Deaton nodded. "Her mother gifted it to her."

"Did it... did it form into a ring?"

His eyebrows pulling together, Deaton said, "Yes... how did you-"

"Was it this ring?" Stiles pulled a ring threaded through with a silver chain from beneath his shirt, holding it up next to the item in his hand.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, awe in his voice. Claudia's ring had been lost since the day she'd been killed. He'd been searching for it to gift to Stiles, but never imagined that Stiles had already been in possession of it.

Stiles cupped the ring in his hand, stroking it with his thumb. "Talia gave it to me before... before she and her family's home was burnt to the ground."

He should have realized that it would have found its way back to the person who had brought out the best of Claudia's magic.

"What's going to happen next?" Kira asked into the silence, glancing between Stiles and Deaton, "How is the rest of this year and the Tournament going to go?"

Thankful for the distraction, Deaton pulled a chair towards them, sitting so that he could see all three. "Well, in a few months, we're going to go into the second task. You'll be able to use each of the objects you collected for it, though we're still debating on whether you'll be permitted to use them in the last task. After the second task, we'll have the Yule Ball, and closer to the end of the year, we'll have the third task. I can't tell you what the next tasks will be, but I believe you three will be ready for them, none the less. Between tasks, you'll attend classes like you have been doing thus far."

Allison sat up straighter, asking, "What about the murders? And attacks? Is someone taking care of that? My family and I could help, if you need it."

Deaton looked pointedly at Stiles before sliding his eyes over to her. "We've already got a lead on the attacks, and we have a person of interest for the murders. I've already got people looking into it in every spare moment, so you don't have to worry about it."

"Okay, but if you need our help..." She trailed off, looking to the Hospital Wing doors.

The pack peered around the doors curiously. They ducked back behind cover, waiting for a moment before peeking in again.

Shaking his head, Deaton stood. "It looks like you've got guests. You're parents will be by later to see you, and you'll have time to eat with them later, but for now, your friends will be enough excitement. The feast will be postponed until Madame McCall releases you from her care. See you in a few hours." He greeted the pack as he passed them, disappearing down the halls.

"Stiles, Allison, Kira!" they shouted. Pushing the three beds together, they made themselves comfortable.

Stiles leaned around Derek's shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Liam. He sent a questioning thrum along the thread that led to Liam. The younger startled, his eyes going wide. Frowning, his face screwing up in concentration, he sent a tentative thrum back.

The smile already spread thick across Stiles' mouth only widened in response. "Nice to have you, Liam. Welcome to our little family of misfits. You'll fit in." Liam beamed, crawling up to take the spot Malia had left for him.

…..

Stroking his fingers through Derek's hair, Stiles ran back through all of the visions he'd ever had. Some of them had been a foretelling, some had been of something happening in that present moment, and others had been of the past. None of it, as far as he could tell, was helpful. Except...

Except for the vision where the body he'd been watching through had given Liam the bite. If he was correct on who he'd been watching, he wasn't sure how he was going to deal with that. How did you tell the person that you loved that he was going to kill someone if he kept doing what he was doing? How did you stop that?

Derek shifted against his side, causing a mass shift for the rest of the pack passed out on the three beds. Sighing, Stiles leaned his head against Derek's. "What am I going to do with you?" he mumbled.


	28. One Bite Too Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter come back and of course he has to fuck stuff up.

Stiles was in the wolf's body again. He held his nose close to the ground, only a few centimeters from the underbrush. He could smell prey, hot and fresh. Not prey of the human kind, no, they were less prey and more of potential pack. No, this was the scent of food, of the hunt. Lifting his muzzle until it was level with the ground, he stepped lightly, following the scent.

He stilled as the scent of pack filtered across his senses, breaking his concentration. Why was his human pack mate wandering the woods in the middle of the night? Turning, leaving his prey to dart into its hiding place, he started towards the scent, following the thread that connected them together.

A low snarl filtered passed his teeth as a hulking figure stepped out in front of him, scarlet eyes and white teeth glowing in the moonlight.

"What an unpleasant surprise finding you here, Hale brat," the creature said, "You should really teach your pack mates not to go wandering around alone. Something might... steal them." His smile widened. "Do you imagine that if I killed this human of yours that your mate would leave you, then I could steal him for my own?"

Stiles snapped his teeth. "I know who you are," he snarled in response.

The smile dropped away. "Oh, do you now? Pray tell, who am I?"

"Deucalion," he hissed, "You're not the only one who can do their research. I know what happened to your pack. I know **who** happened to your pack. I also know why you've come to Hogwarts. I don't care that you are here, but **I'm** going to be the one to rip her throat out."

The creature sneered. "Oh, you are, are you? I thought it was going to be your mate. He seems to have the sharpest teeth out of any of you, and he's not even a were."

"He'll never have to if-"

"Derek? I know you're out here! We need to have a talk," Danny called, close, closer than either had noticed him.

Deucalion was already melting into the shadows, his crimson eyes the only visible piece of him. "Word of advice, young alpha, keep your pack close, especially that mate of yours. I feel something is afoot, and he is in the center of it, whether he knows it or not, and that woman is holding a knife to his throat."

They were still staring each other down when Danny pushed passed a low hanging branch, his eyes falling on them and narrowing with suspicion. "We need to talk, Der-" A scream replaced the remainder of his sentence as jaws clamped around the back of his thigh. He crashed to the ground, the air rushing from his lung in a burst, silencing his scream as he was dragged into the darkness.

"I'm telling you!" Deucalion hissed, grabbing Stiles' scruff to hold him at bay, "Something is starting! This is just the beginning."

Releasing Stiles, he didn't stay long enough to see where Deucalion disappeared to. He bolted towards the scent of Danny's magic mingling with his blood. Danny was cursing loudly, throwing spells and hexes every which way as he leaned heavily against a tree, clutching the back of his leg. Blood soaked not only his hand, but the ground beneath him and his jeans. "This is what I get for being friends and boyfriends and everything under the sun with non-humans!" he snarled, slashing at a pair of tumbling bodies with his wand.

They broke apart, skidding through the underbrush. On one side, Malia squared off, her teeth splattered with crimson, white clouds swirling up from her parted muzzle. Her eyes flashed steel blue. The wolf's eyes across from her mirrored hers, even his stance the same.

"Peter?" Stiles snarled, "How? Why?"

Blood dripped from his maw. "Oh, dear nephew, glad you could join us," Peter said jovially, grinning as his panted. "Did you happen to know that there are a few spells created by a family of gypsies that you can use to fully turn, as I have demonstrate? I was pleasantly surprised. I was also surprised that you hadn't turned that one," he jerked his head towards Danny, "since you've already turned so many others. So, I thought I would give you a little bit of assistance. You can't be too careful these days. You need all the turned wolves you can get, right now."

"That was not for you to decide," Stiles snarled, his jaws aching, his alpha roaring at him to rip Peter's throat out. He had no right to turn one of his pack mates. He had no right to harm a single hair on any of their heads. His alpha screamed for retribution, for him to pay in blood.

Beside him, Danny collapsed, his hands shaking. "D-D-Derek, Malia, w-w-what's hap-ppening to me?"

Stiles' eyes darted to him, and his blood ran cold. Danny's hands were coated in onyx. Even in the dark, he cold see how the two colors had begun to mix, crimson swirling into black.

"Derek, get him out of here! I'll deal with my father," Malia barked, eyes focused on Peter.

Stiles stalked forward, rage pouring off of him. "No. I'll deal with him. You get Danny out of here."

"But-"

" **I** am the alpha! Get him out of here!" Stiles shouted, and without preamble, launched himself at Peter.

…..

Lydia's high, piercing scream dragged Stiles' from Derek's mind. "Danny!" he shouted over her, throwing himself over the others, and sprinting from the Hospital Wing. He tore from the castle, sprinting as fast as he could across the grounds towards the edge of the forest near Laura's cabin. Distress and alarm flooded his bonds, clouding his mind, giving him only a single action. _Get to Danny_.

His eyes snagged on Malia and Derek dragging Danny from the forest by the shoulders of his shirt. "Danny!" he shouted, stumbling and skidding down the path. He dropped to his knees at Danny's side, cupping his cheek without thinking, pushing his magic into his system. Though he could not remove Danny's agony like most of the rest of his pack could, his magic seemed to contain it enough for his breath to ease, his eyes to slip open.

"H-hey, Stiles," he said, his breath barely a whisper, "It looks like this is it for me, and frankly, I'm s-surprise I lasted t-this long. H-humans don't w-withhold with supernaturals very w-well." He coughed harshly, choking black liquid from his throat and down his chin to pool in the hollow of his throat. His throat ticked as he swallowed thickly. "Sorry I w-won't be t-there to help you p-plan your wedding." He laughed wetly. He slid his hand into Stiles', clutching his fingers with the weak amount of strength he had left.

Tears spilled down Stiles' cheeks, splattering against Danny's cheeks. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." A hiccup cut off the sob that was building in his throat.

"Hey, none of that," Danny chided, wiping the tears from Stiles' face, "I'm the one dying. I should be the one crying. Anyway, no one could have protected me against Peter." The others were landing around them. Ethan was on his other side in an instant, taking every ounce of pain he could from him. Danny's eyes slid over to him, smiling. "Hey, nice to see you."

"Danny, come on, you're strong," Ethan whispered, his fingers tightening little by little around Danny's hand, "You can force the turn, I know you can. Please, you can't leave me." His face crumpled as he shook his head.

Danny replied with a sad shake of his own head. "No, no, I can't." He coughed again. Onyx slipped as his eyelashes, spilling down his face. He blinked rapidly, turning his eyes to Allison and Kira where they crouched behind Stiles, reaching for him across the ground, but unsure if they were invited or not for virtue of being the newest human members. "You two, you have to protect them. They may not be your family yet, but they're your friends, and you have to protect them because I know they'll protect you as best they can. Do you understand? You have to protect them, or I will return to be your worst poltergeist."

The pair laughed weakly, nodding as they sniffed and wiped at their eyes.

"F-for a guys w-who is d-d-dying, you're t-talking an awful l-lot," Stiles stammered meekly, trying his best to smile even as he felt his magic fading from Danny's body as gradually as his life force.

Danny forced a smile onto his trembling his lips. "Well, I can't let you have the last word." He looked to Ethan, and his smile became genuine even as his eyes dulled. "I never told you, but I love you."

"Oh god," Ethan whispered, his sobs spilling over his bottom lip, muddling his words, "God, I love you too. Danny, please, please don't leave me. Please, oh god, please." He pressed his lips to Danny's, and when he pulled back, Danny was gone. "Danny!" he sobbed, clutching at his clothing.

Aiden pulled his head into his chest, pulling Ethan against him, holding still as he buried himself in his twin's clothes. Lydia turned her face into the crook between Jackson's shoulder and neck as he drew her in, burying his nose in her hair.

Stiles sat there silently, his chin trembling as tears slipped down his face and he held back the painful noises that clawed at his throat. A wet nose pressed into Stiles' neck, a quiet whine sounding close to his ear. Wrapping his arms around Derek's neck, he opened his mouth, and allowed all of those noises to spill free.

…..

"I'm sorry," Derek whispered, stroking his fingers through Stiles' hair. The sun was just peaking over the horizon, spraying the wall of the Room of Requirements with colored lights. The fire that Deaton had set and that had roared in the giant hearth had died down to cinders just before sunrise. Deaton and Melissa had arrived not long after Danny had gone. Melissa had taken his body while Deaton had led them to the Room of Requirements as too many questions would have been asked in a common room, and being in the same room as Danny's body had been deemed unhealthy for them. The others were scattered around them, pressed as close to each other and their alphas as they could manage.

"For what? It wasn't your fault," Stiles told him, pressing his mouth into Derek's shoulder, closing his eyes tightly against the outside world. He could still see Danny so clearly, smiling and rolling his eyes, choking on black blood and the light dying from his eyes. How could those two Danny's be the same Danny? How could someone be there one minute and gone the next? It was just like Laura, but worse, and he couldn't understand why. He could feel a scream building, balled up just under his chin. Was this how Derek and Cora had felt when Laura had died? "It was Peter's, and death will seem merciful compared to what I'm going to do to him."

Derek was quiet for a moment. "How do you know that Peter bit him? What if it was me? What if I bit Danny? What if I was the one who killed him?"

"You weren't."

"How do you know? The last thing I remember is falling asleep in the Hopsital Wing, and the first thing I remember is waking up trying to tear Peter's hide from his body. What if this blackout has happened before?"

Sighing and opening his eyes, Stiles stared at him sadly. "The blackouts have happened before. I wasn't sure at first, but I'm positive now. All those times you've disappeared without warning, everyone who has been turned recently, those were you, or I should say, your alpha. What I think is happening is that your territory is being threatened, and your pack is small, so to combat that, your alpha has been taking hold of your body and finding strong bodies to turn. So far, everyone you've bitten has turned." Derek looked stricken, his face bleeding white, but Stiles continued without pause. "But you weren't the one who bit Danny. I know because I've been having vision or dreams or whatever you want to call them from your alpha's viewpoint. Malia can back up my stories, but if you trust me in anything, trust me in this; you were not the one who caused Danny's death."

"I believe you," Derek replied immediately, his arms tightening around Stiles. "How am I going to stop it though? I can't let my alpha keep turning kids all over the place. I may not have bitten Danny, but eventually, it will happen. I'll bite someone and it won't take. I can't let that happen, Stiles, not matter how much danger my territory is in."

"I don't know," Stiles told him truthfully, "but we'll figure something out. We always do."


	29. Preparations for a Dance

Madame McCall smiled apologetically at Stiles, Allison and Kira as the Houses shuffled into the large ballroom, squeezing into the bleachers the others teachers had set up around the room. "Good morning, everyone! I am Melissa McCall, the Head of Hufflepuff and the head nurse, for those of you who didn't know. During the Triwizard Tournament, it is customary for the House Head to teach all of you left-footed boys and girls how to waltz for the Yule Ball. This year, it will be Professor Morrell and myself aided by Professor Martin because the other teachers, specifically our male counterparts, were too chicken to help." Her voice was jovial, her smile wide.

Laughter filled the room, and she noticed that even Stiles and his friends cracked small grins. They had been morose and withdrawn the past couple days since Danny's death. She was worried for them, but if they could smile, there was a possibility they were better than she thought.

Smiling, Melissa rubbed her hands together. "Let's get things started then with a demonstration done by Professor Martin and myself. Professor Morrell, if you would." She clasped hands with Natalie Martin, rolling her eyes with the other woman as whoops rose around the room.

"We'll work them to the bone for that," Natalie said quietly as they began to move.

"They'll have to be able to get through half of the song without a mistake before they can go to lunch," Melissa suggested.

"Perfect."

Scott watched his mom, his mouth hanging open. "Dude, I didn't even know my mom could dance," he said incredulously, looking to Stiles, "When did that happen?"

Stiles shrugged. "Maybe when she was here. I really have no idea, dude. Now, what would be really surprising is if my dad could dance, but he's back in Beacon Hills until the next Task, so we'll never find out." His head jerked up as the door swung open. He shot to his feet, his mouth hanging open. "Dad? What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here for another two weeks!"

"Speak of the Devil," Lydia murmured to Cora.

The Sheriff rolled his eyes as he closed the door gently behind him. "I was invited back, Stiles, oh ungrateful son of mine. I'm going to be here until after the next Task."

Melissa and Natalie slowed to a stop, breaking apart to watch the commotion. A smile that Melissa had unsuccessfully repressed spread across her face. She crossed her arms, shoving her hands into her armpits as if trying to keep herself still.

"But why?" Stiles shouted, stepping between people on the bleachers to get to the floor. He hit the ground running, throwing himself into his dad's arms. "It's still good to see you though."

"Oh, that's nice. Now I feel loved," the Sheriff laughed, hugging his son to him tightly. He frowned when he felt Stiles shudder under his arms. Lowering his voice, he asked, "Are you alright, son? Did something happen? You know you can talk to me about anything."

Stiles nodded into his father's chest, shutting his eyes tightly against the tears that welled in them. He pulled away after another moment, forcing a grin onto his face. "We're learning how to waltz right now." The smile on his face turned wicked and he swung around. Sheriff Stilinski felt his stomach drop out from under him. "Mama McCall, do you want to do a demonstration with my dad? I think it would be very educational."

A blush, pink and flaming, spread across Melissa's cheeks even as she smirked. Sheriff Stilinski devolved into a spluttering mess. "No, uh, no. I'm not good at dancing at all. That would be a terrible idea," he stuttered, clearing his throat as laughter filled the room. He glowered at Stiles even as Melissa stepped forward.

"That's fine. We're teaching everyone how to dance. Everyone should know as least how to waltz," she said, raising a challenging eyebrow at him.

Sighing, the Sheriff took her hands, letting himself be dragged towards the middle of the room. Wolf whistles sounded from Stiles' pack, and laughter spilled from the bleachers again.

"Okay, let's begin." The music started, and Melissa took the lead.

…..

Stiles laughed delightedly as Derek stepped on his toes. Derek grimaced, muttering a quiet, "Sorry," before glancing down at their feet and stepping on his toes again. He groaned in aggravation.

"It's alright," Stiles laughed, bumping their foreheads together, "You're clumsiness just makes you that much cuter."

"But I don't want to be cute," Derek grumbled, stumbling into Stiles as he tripped over his own feet, "I don't understand! My mother tried to teach me how to waltz, and then Laura, and you at one point in our Third Year, and I still can't get it. Not that Laura and Mom were great at waltzing themselves."

Stiles grinned. "That just means you have two left feet instead of one. I still love you though."

Derek sighed. "I should just give up the ghost. You should dance with Lydia or Allison for the opening dance of the Yule Ball." They turned their eyes to where Lydia was steadfastly guiding Cora through the steps, her lip twitching every time Cora stepped on her toes. Scott and Allison glided passed, Allison guiding them effortlessly and Scott simply trying to keep up. "Definitely one of them. Malia can't dance to save her life." Across the room, she snarled as Melissa stopped her and Liam to correct them.

"It must be a Hale thing," Stiles suggested, glancing around at the rest of the pack, "Most of the rest seem to be doing pretty well."

"Dance with any one of the others at the Ball, I won't be mad."

"But I want to dance with you."

Derek shook his head. "I'm going to make you look terrible."

Stiles shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me. It's just going to be pack for the first few minutes until the others start to join us."

Derek frowned, following Scott and Isaac across the dance floor. Allison had traded Scott for Kira, and Scott laughed uproariously as Isaac flushed deeply, his ears turning red. "Just think about it. I want you to have fun."

Rolling his eyes, Stiles asked disparagingly, "And you don't think I'll have fun if I'm dancing with your two left feet? What logic is this? Who is filling your head with this filth, my wonderful sourwolf? If I didn't have fun with you in nearly everything we do, I wouldn't still be with you, just saying. I can't be with someone who doesn't make me laugh and smile and all that sugary bullshit. So, no, I'm not going to think about it. I'm going to dance with you for the opening dance at the Yule Ball, for the entire Yule Ball actually, and that is the last I'm going to say on it."

"But-"

"Not 'buts'," Stiles cut him off sharply, glaring at him, "At least not in public. My father is here. Be appropriate. We'll have plenty of time to be inappropriate in front of my father at Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners and such when we're married."

"We're getting married?" Derek asked mildly, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, I sure fucking hope so after everything I've put up being with you. This whole mated thing would be kind of difficult to work around if we were with other people anyway. Kind of hard to explain why you can't leave your ex because of this metaphysical bond thing that you have if they're not in the pack."

Derek's returned Stiles' raised brow. "They wouldn't be in the pack?"

Stiles pursed his lips, glancing towards the ceiling. "Probably not. I wouldn't want to have to deal with the drama if things had to be broken off, you get me? It's kind of like how they say don't date people you work with."

Shrugging, Derek said, "I guess so. I've just never really dated before."

"Right, because all of your romantic interactions with women have ended badly."

"Very."

Puffing out his chest, Stiles said grandly, "That's why you need a man in your life!"

Pressing a kiss to Stiles' temple, just out of sight of Sheriff Stilinski, Derek replied, "I'm glad I already have a great one."

…..

Stiles whined wordlessly as he fell back against Lydia's headboard, pouting and picking at the dirt beneath his fingernails. "I don't know why I have to be the one to help you pick out your dress for the Yule Ball when it's still two weeks away."

"Because you're my best friend, and Isaac is probably off giving head to Scott or Allison or both. Otherwise, I'd go to him. He has some good taste, but those scarves are horrendous most days," Lydia replied curtly, standing straight from her trunk and throwing three more dresses on top of the pile that was already a good foot and a half high.

"Oh thanks, I feel so loved and wanted." He sighed, turning his eyes up to her. "If you don't even want me here for fashion advice, I don't know why I'm here at all. It would have been so much easier to bring one of the girls in here instead of me. We wouldn't have to cast this charm every fucking thirty minutes."

"First off, I may enjoy Kira and Allison immensely, but I do not entirely trust them just yet. Two, I didn't bring you here for fashion advice. You have a terrible sense of fashion, especially for a gay man."

"That is a stereotype, and I resent it."

Rolling her eyes, she continued, "Three, as I said, best friend. I would do anything for you, no matter how annoying it would be."

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Anything? Even planning the perfect proposal?"

Lydia stopped, snapping straight. She narrowed her eyes at him, lowering the dress in her hands. "Are you going to propose to someone? Derek, I assume."

"You assume correctly and eventually, yeah. Not right now though. We've got too much shit going on with the Triwizard Tournament and Peter and fucking Kate. What's the hurt in planning early, though? It has to be good and it has to be loud and everyone has to know that he is going to finally be mine."

"He is yours," Lydia pointed out, holding up the dress in her hands for inspection, "and everyone is perfectly aware. That guy is so head over heels for you, it actually makes me sick sometimes, like today during our dancing lesson. You two are almost as sickening as that love triangle thing developing between Scott, Isaac, and Allison."

Stiles hummed. "You noticed that too?"

"Oh, please, they are so obvious it physically hurts me."

"You should probably have Mama McCall look at that. That can't be healthy."

"Shut up," Lydia snapped without malice, holding up a floor length, midnight blue dress studded to make it look like the night sky, and a shimmery, gossamer, pale purple number, "Now, which one do you prefer?"

Frowning, Stiles looked between both dresses. "If I had to choose between just these two, the blue one for sure, but maybe something red would be better."

…..

Stiles and Sheriff Stilinski walked along the path leading to Laura's burnt out, abandoned cabin, staring out over the grounds. Mist had rolled in off of the lake, blanketing the grounds thickly enough that they had to watch carefully as they padded through the garden Larua had kept in memory of Rubious Hagrid. Her plants, fruits and vegetables and things Stiles didn't even have a name for, were wilting, their leaves turning brown and crisp around the edges.

Finally, Stiles spoke, "You weren't actually invited here to dance around with us, were you." It wasn't a question. He was positive in the truth of his statement. What he wasn't positive in was the reason he had to be saying it.

"No, no I wasn't."

"Does it have something to do with..." He trailed off. The wound was too fresh, still bleeding and full of puss. Just thinking Danny's name peeled at the slowly scabbing over wound.

The Sheriff nodded, sighing. "I'm sorry about Danny, Stiles. I know he meant a lot to you and your friends. With any luck, I'll be able to help catch the person who has been doing this."

"That would be... amazing. I want to watch the man who killed Danny hang for this."

"Stiles," Sheriff Stilinski reprimanded, "Violence isn't always the answer. It doesn't always solve our problems."

Stiles glowered at the grass, kicking at a charred piece of broken wood. "It apparently was for that guy."

The Sheriff sighed. "Stiles, this guy, whatever he's doing, he's dangerous. I want you to stay out of this one. Promise me that you'll let myself and the other teachers handle this, this time."

Stiles shook his head. "I can't promise that. I'm sorry."

Sighing, the Sheriff wrapped his arm around Stiles' shoulder, dragging him into his side as they continued walking.


	30. The Yule Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Yule Ball was supposed to be fun, and it was until it wasn't.

Lydia squealed, squirming in her gold dress as Stiles exited her dorm bathroom, adjusting his tie, but only making it look worse. He had always been horrible at tying his tie. "Look at you! Derek is going to have to hide in the bathroom for ten minutes when he sees you!" she shouted, beckoning him over. She adjusted his tie so that it sat squarely between his collar bones and lay flat against the shirt of his dress robes.

Stiles frowned. "Why would he have to hide in the bathroom?" he asked, accepting the Fire Whiskey Cora handed him, grimacing as it slid down his throat.

Rolling her eyes, Lydia explained, "Because he's going to pop a boner and then he's going to have to go take care of it so he doesn't just jump you right there where everyone can see. Your father is going to be there. You two at least have to play it PG-13 while he's looking."

Malia sneered, lounging across Lydia's bed in only a towel. Her dress hung from a hanger at the foot of the bed, but she was steadfastly ignoring it until the absolute last minute that she would have to put it on. "Truth. How much do you guys want to bet that they sneak off in the middle of the ball to fuck? And then come back and act like they weren't doing it in the Room of Requirements?"

Stiles scoffed, ignoring Lydia, Allison, Erica and Cora as their hands shot into the air. "We wouldn't go to the Room of Requirements. That would be way too far for us to go. We'd just end up groping each other against a wall before we got there. If this situation were to occur, and I'm talking hypothetically here, we'd just go out into the courtyard and find a dark corner." Cora released a noise of disgust, and he simply shrugged his shoulders.

"You two are like a newly married couple on their honeymoon without ever having been married. I can't imagine what your actual honeymoon will be like," Allison spoke up, turning to Erica to zip up the back of her dress.

"They'll never leave their room, that's for sure. I'm not sure they'll even eat," Erica said, grinning wolfishly when Allison met her eyes in the mirror they'd set up.

"They'll leave the hotel owners with a broken headboard and maybe a cracked wall too," Lydia said matter-of-factly, looking to Cora, "Cora, darling, come here so I can do your hair for you."

"My hair is fine," Cora whined even as she moved towards Lydia.

Lydia smiled pleasantly. "Not if you're going to be seen with me, it's not." Stiles sighed loudly, drawing the girls' attention back to him. "What are you forlornly sighing for, Stiles?

"I am not forlornly sighing!"

"You are."

"I'm not."

"You are, actually," Kira interjected because she was unsure how long that would have gone on, but she was sure that it would have ended with someone getting hexed. Again. For the fourth time that day.

Rolling his eyes towards the ceiling, Stiles explained, "I don't understand why I'm dressing with you guys. Don't get me wrong, I love hanging out with you girls, but there are also male friends of ours who I could be dressing with. That would at least be more appropriate."

" _Appropriate_?" Cora shouted incredulously, laughter in her words, "When have you ever cared about being appropriate?"

Ignoring her, Allison said, "Well, you're the other Champion, and Kira and I are dressing together instead of with our schoolmates. It wouldn't seem right without you here too."

"Also, you'd probably be late because you were boning Derek," Malia said, cleaning dirt from beneath her fingernails.

"And we want to keep Derek all edgy and anxious. We spelled everyone so they wouldn't be able to tell him what you looked like in your dress robes," Erica explained, grinning, "It'll be hilarious to see him go from anxious to horny in a millisecond. The look on his face is going to be priceless."

Lydia smirked over her shoulder. "I may have also told him that you'd be wearing crotchless panties for later."

"Lydia!" Stiles shouted. The girls burst into fits of laughter.

…..

"I told you he would look like he got hit by a train!" Cora hissed triumphantly to Isaac whose eyes weren't trained on their alphas, but instead on where Scott was stuttering incoherently to Allison and Kira.

"And I told you **he** would be more focused on the girls," Isaac muttered back, plucking at his robes, "So that makes our bets null and void."

"What? That's not fair! I totally bet you more for the Stiles and Derek one than the other one!" she protested, "And also, you were dressing with him so it totally doesn't count!"

"Actually, the betting terms were that if you won, I would have to give you/do whatever you wanted, and vice versus for the second bet. As such, it is now canceled out. Also, I dressed with the other Hufflepuffs, not the pack."

Derek and Stiles tuned out their pack's squabbling. They only had eyes for each other. "W-wow, you look..." Derek trailed off, his words failing him as he stared at Stiles. His mouth gaped open, his lips moving in an attempt to form words, but he couldn't find the means to.

"You look pretty good yourself," Stiles said, stepping over to him. He lifted Derek's chin to close his mouth before pressing in close, sealing their mouths together. "You even taste pretty good," he hummed, "What were you eating before this?"

"Chocolate that Lydia, Allison and Kira gave me," Derek said against Stiles' mouth, pressing back together.

When they pulled apart for the second time, breathless and grinning, Stiles said, "We're probably going to regret that later, but for now, let's enjoy ourselves. Whatever they did to the chocolate can't be too terrible, unless Lydia is using it to experiment on us again. Then we should actually be worried, but I can't bring myself to be right now, so..." Flashing his teeth, his eyes suddenly flashing crimson, he pecked Derek on the lips before breaking away, headed towards Allison and Kira.

"Oh! There you three are!" Melissa called, bustling towards them, Sheriff Stilinski hot on her heels. "I thought I'd never find you. What took you so long to get down here?"

"Well, you see, Lydia tried to turn me into a dog because I-" Stiles started, but Melissa cut him, shaking her head.

"Okay, okay, I get it. All you needed to say was Lydia and you. Now, let's get moving." She turned sharply on the rounded toe of her heel, nearly colliding with the Sheriff. Narrowly avoiding him, she darted around him, marching purposefully towards the tall doors of the Great Hall. "Come on, come on, we don't have time for you three to be standing around. Grab your dates and meet me outside the doors."

The three Champions glanced at each other before grabbing the wrist of the respective person they'd decided to conduct the first dance with, dragging their reluctant partners towards the doors. They stumbled out of the crowd, breathing harshly as they stood straight. Stiles glanced at who the other two had chosen to dance with and had to stifle a laugh.

"You guys sure picked... interesting dance partners."

Allison released Ethan's wrist, smiling apologetically. "Oh, thanks, Stiles. What is that supposed to mean anyway?" he snapped.

Beside them, Liam took back his wrist from Kira, rubbing it gently. He blinked at Stiles stonily, unamused in every possible way. "I'm not that bad of a dancer, thanks."

"You're actually pretty good," Kira agreed.

"I just mean that... I thought you guys would dance with Scott and Isaac," Stiles explained, still trying to keep a straight face. He just couldn't imagine these two specific pairs doing anything together, let alone dancing, unless it was with the rest of the pack. They just didn't seem to fit together.

Allison popped her lips thoughtfully, pursing her lips to the side. "Well, I didn't want to decide between Isaac and Scott. They're both important to me, and that would just cause jealousy and/or rivalry. You know boys. And Ethan needed some cheering up, I think. I mean, look at him!" She grabbed his face between her hands, turning it to face Stiles and Derek. "Look at those bags! Look at those blood shot eyes! Look at that sallow skin! This is the look of a very sad man, and we are here to cheer him up!"

Ethan sighed deeply, shaking his head. "You're not going to be able to make me happy. The only thing that can make me happy is forbidden and has severe consequences even if you do do it. On top of that, I don't know anyone who can actually do it."

Giving Ethan a sad smile, Stiles turned to Kira and Liam. "What about you, Kira? You know Malia is going to rip your throat out for touching him. You know how territorial she is, even if she hasn't outright claimed him. It might have been safer for you to choose someone from your school, or maybe the Beauxbatons. Nothing against us, but sometimes Hogwarts boys are a little sketchy."

Kira shrugged. "I'm not trying to steal him. I only need him for one dance."

"Now I feel like a tool," Liam pouted.

"That's because you are a tool, Liam," Stiles said without skipping a beat. The other four grinned, laughing.

"That hurt, Stiles, that really hurt."

"I am so far from sorry that it's not even funny."

They jumped as Melissa popped up beside them, pressing a hand to her chest in relief. "There you all are. We're just about ready to begin the first dance. Come on, line up, line up." She dragged them towards the closed double doors, placing Kira and Liam in front followed by Allison and Ethan with Stiles and Derek pulling up the rear. "The doors will begin to open as soon as the music starts. Once the six of you are situated, they'll start the song for the waltz. You are expected to dance for one whole song, and then you can do as you please after that. Remember, you are acting as representatives for your schools. Act appropriately, but have fun." With a last, fleeting smile, Melissa slipped back into the Great Hall, closing the doors behind her.

"Oh no," Stiles whispered, his eyes wide as he stared over Kira's head.

"What? Is something wrong?" Derek asked, glancing at him out of the corner of his eyes.

Stiles smiled shakily. "No. I'm just getting really nervous all of a sudden."

"I should be the one getting nervous," Derek retorted with a soft smile, "You're going to do fine, Stiles. They won't be able to take their eyes off of you. You enchant everyone who looks at you. You're going to be the center of their attention."

"Oh my wand, don't tell me that! You're just making me more nervous!" Stiles shouted indignantly, glaring over at him, "And your opinion doesn't count because you're biased."

Allison glanced over her shoulder, grinning at him. "No, no, he's completely right. You're like a beacon on a dark night. People can't help, but watch you. It's like you purposefully cast beauty spells on yourself like a lot of actresses I know do."

Stiles whined pathetically. "But I don't. I don't even know any beauty spells. I don't want people to stare at me." Blush was already rising hot along his neck, staining his ears and cheeks.

"You should have told your parents not to make such a pretty son then," Kira said, laughing as she looked at Stiles' face. "You're adorable, you know that."

Stiles was opening his mouth to retort, but the doors started to creak open. Allison and Kira snapped back around, and took the first steps into the Great Hall.

…..

The music was loud and thumping. The lights had been dimmed and black lights had been added. Bodies writhed around them, against them, dancing until they couldn't feel their legs. Stiles and Derek danced against each other in the middle of the rest of the pack, their pack mates doing their best to be touching them at all times.

Fun, they were having fun for the first time in two weeks. They laughed with each other, kissed those who they weren't specifically meant to kiss, and hands found their way towards untoward places. Stiles laughed as Lydia slipped her hand against his stomach, raising a challenging eyebrow at Derek over his shoulder, glancing down to where his hands hadn't left Stiles' rear in over an hour.

Beside them, Jackson, already plastered, danced between Erica and Isaac. He was never going to live that down.

Lydia's eyes went wide with terror. Even over the laughter and the talking and the music, her scream was still piercing, and Liam's screech of, "Hayden!" was clear as an autumn morning.

Somewhere in himself, Stiles had known that their happiness couldn't have lasted, even for a moment.


	31. Into the Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Second Task begins with sickening worry.

"Stiles, are you alright?" Sheriff Stilinski asked, tapping his fork on Stiles' plate to bring his attention back to him.

Stiles' head jerked back around towards the Sheriff, his eyes wide, startled, his face pale and drawn with worry. He ran a trembling hand back through his hair, mussing it more than it already was. His normally amber eyes glowed a bright crimson. They'd been that color all morning, or at least since the Sheriff had sat down across from him at the Sytherin's table. He reached for something beneath his shirt, but his hand pressed flat against his chest before falling limply to his lap. "I'm- I'm fine," he muttered.

The Sheriff sighed, setting down his fork and crossing his arms on the table top. "You don't look fine. You're acting like an addict who has gone cold turkey. Talk to me, Stiles, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on."

Swallowing thickly, Stiles braced elbow on the table and then his forehead against his hand. He licked at his lips, swallowing a second time. "It's just... it's just that, I haven't seen Derek all day which is strange in itself because he's the one who usually wakes me up in the morning. And then Mom's ring is also gone, and I know I didn't leave it anywhere because I never take it off. And I've only seen glimpses of the pack here and there, but none of them will come near me this morning. And then we're still dealing with Hayden's body from the Yule Ball, and the people who did that to her are still running around." He covered his face with his hands, taking a deep breath after babbling everything he'd just said in one breath. "I'm just kind of stressing right now. Fuck, and the Second Task is today. I'm dead. I am literally going to die today."

The Sheriff pried Stiles' hands away from his face, staring at his crimson eyes for a long moment. "Take a deep breath, Stiles. I'm sure Derek and your friends have their reasons for not being around today. You'll be fine during the Second Task today just like you were for the first one. Your friends will be there to cheer you on, and when you win the Second Task, Derek and the rest of them will be there to congratulate you."

Stiles nodded, biting his lip. "What about Hayden and the people who have been killing people for no good reason?"

"Like I told you when I got here two weeks ago, you leave that to me. I'll figure it out."

"Okay," Stiles whispered, and like the last time they had this conversation, he knew Stiles wouldn't listen to him.

Pursing his lips, he asked after a long moment, "Speaking of Derek-"

Stiles shot to his feet abruptly, startling Sheriff Stilinski back into a group of kids wandering passed. His cheeks flushing a red worthy to rival the crimson of his eyes, he rushed, "So sorry I've got to go so soon. Got lots of things to do. I've got to get ready for the next Task. I've got to wrangle up Calcifer and pick my items to ride into battle with and saddle up Calcifer because Hermione Granger knows it's not easy to bareback a dragon and-" He threw his leg over the bench, ready to bolt. He jerked to a stop as the Sheriff wrapped his fingers around Stiles' wrist.

"Stiles, sit down. We're having this talk whether you like it or not."

"I really do have to go get ready for the Second Task though."

"The longer you keep wasting time, the longer this conversation is going to drag on."

Sighing, Stiles threw his leg back over the bench, sinking reluctantly back into his seat. He fidgeted agitatedly with his wand, sending sparks down the table and setting some unfortunate First Year's homework on fire. "Oh fuck," he whispered, scrambling towards the kid.

The Sheriff waited patiently until the homework was merely smoking before he started. "I knew that you and Danny wouldn't last forever, but I guess I never imagined you and Derek would be... something. The two of you are, right? Something? Dating, I guess? Because I've had two weeks to observe you two, and I'm not exactly blind."

Stiles dragged his finger through a pile of crumbs some Fifth Year's owl had left on the table. "I guess you could say that we're dating, but that doesn't really describe it."

The Sheriff blinked at Stiles. "Is your relationship serious?" Stiles nodded. "How serious?"

"Like... 'I want to marry him after we're done with school' serious."

"Don't go rushing headlong into anything, Stiles, take your time deciding. People change after school, and you're going to want to know that that person is right for you."

Stiles gave the Sheriff a withering look. "Says the man who married his high school sweetheart right after they graduated. You would still be with Mom if she'd lived, right? You'd still love her even though she'd changed?"

"Of course. I still love your mother even if she's not with us anymore."

"That is the level of certainty I have towards my relationship with Derek."

The Sheriff nodded. "I just want to make sure that you're positive. You two are being safe, right?"

"Dad, come on, we're at breakfast," Stiles groaned.

"Are you?" Sheriff Stilinski repeated more sternly.

Raising an eyebrow at him, Stiles said, "Yes, we are. Are you and Mama McCall?"

The Sheriff spluttered, his ears burning red, but before he could form a reply, Deaton dropped a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski, I hope your morning has been going well. I'm sorry to intrude on your conversation so suddenly, but I need to borrow your son for a moment."

"Sure. I'll just go look over those bodies again."

The pair stood together, hugging over the table before heading on their way. As the Sheriff disappeared, Stiles muttered, "Or to go have illicit relations with Mama McCall. Maybe Scott and I will have a new sibling in the next nine months."

Deaton chuckled good good-naturedly as they turned towards the dungeons and the Slytherin common room. "Are you ready for the Second Task, Stiles? It is in a few hours after all."

Stiles scratched at the back of his head, all of this anxiety his father had chased away for just a moment returning in a rush, smothering him. "No. I haven't been able to concentrate all morning. I haven't seen Derek and the others haven't come near me."

Deaton nodded thoughtfully, clasping his hands behind his back. "I would suggest that you bring that book you collected, but leave the potion."

"How would a book help me? I can't exactly read it during the task."

"Have you even opened to book yet?"

"Oh yeah. I've had loads of time to just sit around reading between the Yule Ball, Kate and Peter, and all of the bodies," Stiles said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Deaton sighed. "Bring the book, Stiles. What else are you going to bring?"

"Calcifer is definitely coming with me, the invisibility cloak and I guess the book now too. I'm going to save the apple for the last task, and the bonus object is never coming with me anywhere until it stops shape-shifting, and I guess the potion is just going to hang out too."

"Good, those are good choices." Deaton turned to leave as they stopped in front of the Slytherin's common room door, but paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Oh, and Stiles, don't fret over Derek or the others. It'll all be fine as long as you do well on the Task."

…..

Stiles paced back and forth in front of the line of trees, the stadium rising high into the sky above the treetops behind him. He fiddled with his wand in his pocket, biting viciously at his thumbnail. Calcifer balanced on his shoulder, making soft noises of comfort in his ear, almost like purring. Kira and Allison had yet to show up, and the bleachers were mostly empty save for a few chattering groups of students who kept glancing down at him.

The pack hadn't shown up just yet either. Maybe they never would. Maybe they'd let him face this alone. Maybe that vision he'd seen at the end of the first task had been true. Maybe Derek believed he'd been wrong to choose him.

Pain ripped through Stiles' middle, sending him to his knees, blurring his vision. He gripped at his chest, gasping for breath. It was the same as when he'd had the vision, when Derek had told him he should have picked his mate better. His heart gave a shudder, as if it were breaking in two. Somehow through the pounding in his ears, he found that the stadiums had gone quiet, but no one had come down to try helping him.

He gave a guttural sob, tucking his head against his knees, trying his best to keep himself together. It felt as if his body were trying to rip itself apart, as if it were unraveling from the inside out. He sent out a distress signal to the rest of the pack, but it fell short, his magic working to keep his body knit together.

"Stiles?" Lydia leaned over him as he raised his head, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Stiles, you're going to be fine. It's going to be okay. We're here. We're right here," she whispered, cupping his face in her hands. "We were told not to talk to you, but fuck that. We're here now."

Students and teachers were streaming in around them, filling the stands, watching them with questions in their eyes, but unwilling to help. The pack stood behind Lydia, worry in their eyes as they sent comfort along the bond towards him. They found Deaton in the crowd, shooting him nasty glares before crowding around Stiles and pulling him to his feet.

"Where's Derek?" he asked Lydia pleadingly, "He didn't... He doesn't think he chose the wrong mate, right?"

Shock spread across Lydia's face followed closely by understanding as she glanced down at his arms still clutching his middle. "Of course not! He loves you, Stiles, and nothing is going to change that! He wouldn't stop loving you no matter what, not even if it could bring his family back. Where did you get that idea from?" She touched the tips of her fingers to his cheek again, wiping tears from his skin.

"I haven't seen him all day. He hasn't even come to find me once. He wasn't there when I woke up this morning. I'm worried. I don't want him to-"

Lydia cut him off with a gentle finger placed against his lips. Pulling him gently down, she kissed him chastely, passing him a small bit of her magic, enough to warm him, to make him feel loved and needed again. When she pulled away, anger burned deep in her eyes. "Fuck Deaton, and fuck what he said. I can't watch you fall apart like this anymore. Derek is-"

' _Witches and wizards, welcome to the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament! All those who are not Champions, please leave the field immediately_!' the announcer called cheerfully, and as if being dragged from their spots, the others reluctantly found their way into the stands, each touching Stiles in some way before moving away. Jackson grabbed Lydia's wrist, pulling her along behind him. Allison and Kira remained, a hand on each of his shoulders. ' _Thank you! Now we can begin! Here is Headmaster Deaton to explain the next Task_.'

Deaton stood on a box above the top of the stadiums, balancing on the very edge. ' _Champions, your next Task lays before you in the Forbidden Forest. Something, or somethings, something important to you, has been taken from you, stolen in the night. Your objective is to retrieve these objects from the forest within an hour from the time the Task begins. It may be anywhere in the woods whether that be the den of the giant spiders or the centaurs' territory. It may even be in the hands of a creature. The first Champion to find their object will be the one to win. If you do not find your object in the hour given, it may very well be lost for the rest of eternity_.'

Both Kira and Allison paled at his words. Stiles would have followed suite if he hadn't already been pale with the sharp tugging in the pit of his stomach.

' _You may use any tools you have at your disposal, whether that be your wand or the objects your collected in the first task. Summoning charms will be useless to you. I do not recommend you wasting your strength on casting them. Remember, you will only have one hour to track down this important object. Use it wisely._ ' He turned his eyes back to the announcer and nodded.

The announcer smiled widely. ' _Champions, please take your spots at the places marked for you_!' The three reluctantly split away from each other, each taking an 'X' marked on the ground. They faced the forest, staring into it depthless darkness, shivering under the feeling of being watch and sized up. ' _You each have one hour to find your object. On your marks... go_!' A bell like a church bell tolled, and the three sprinted into the forest, immediately disappearing from sight.


	32. Anti-Patronus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why didn’t Stiles open that book sooner? And what the fuck is an anti-patronus?

Stiles' dazed and stumbling alpha roared to life as he tore into the Forbidden Forest, filling his veins with fire and his body with determination. His mate was in danger, and no matter if Derek did or did not believe that Stiles had been the wrong choice, he would not let him die in this godforsaken forest. ' _Show me to him_!' he thought fervently, dragging at his wolf with every ounce of strength his exhausted body possessed. ' _Bring me to our mate_!'

Forcing his body to slow, he allowed Calcifer to leap from his shoulder, landing on the ground. ' _Engorgio!_ ' he shouted, thrusting his wand at Calcifer with stumbling impatience. Clambering onto the dragon's back, settling himself just in front of his wings, he called, "Let's go, Calcifer!"

Calcifer lifted from the forest floor with a flap of his wings, shooting into the sky darkening with clouds that were heavy with rain. He released a deafening roar as he soared above the treetops, looping backwards and settling on the weak spire of a tree. The tree moaned under their weight, but held well enough.

The announcer's voice rose from somewhere behind his back. ' _Stiles Stilinski is the first to appear from the forest looking blood thirsty! There are fifty minutes remaining on the clock! Who will be the first to encounter an obstacle set up in the forest?_ '

Glancing back, Stiles could just barely make out the stadiums rising over the treetops. He'd made it that far in ten minutes on foot? It seemed impossible, but then again, so had werewolves when he'd first come to Hogwarts, and now he was the alpha mate of a pack. He supposed anything was possible now.

' _Let's go save our mate_ ,' Stiles thought to his alpha. Digging the book from the pack he'd slung over his back, he murmured, "Help me find Derek," before flipping it open. The book fell open to a page close to the front. He frowned, reading the title of the page. 'How to Keep Tabs on Your Alpha' it read, and he couldn't help but laugh. The two pages detailed a mid range spell of similar difficulty to the tracking spells they'd been taught in Charms except that this spell could be maintained for long periods of time and could either be used to track down an alpha or just to know where said alpha was at all times. The only problem with the spell was that you had to be intimate with the that alpha's magic, the taste of it, the feel of it, because it also picked up the location of every living thing in its radius.

Looking up and over the vastness of the Forbidden Forest, he shrugged. "It's worth a shot, I suppose. I'm not going to find him just hanging out here, isn't that right, Calcifer?" With Calcifer's huff of fire in agreement, Stiles raised his wand above his head and slowly begin to move it in ever growing circles. He shouted the spell, throwing his magic into it.

His magic burst from his wand, spreading out like the rings he'd drawn, passing over every inch of the forest. He'd never realized just how well his mother's ring helped focus his magic. It flooded out from him, pinging the location of every living creature that it passed over back to him. There was a million giant spiders in their den. There was the herd of centaurs. There was a nymph lounging on the edge of the lake. There was a bird. There was Allison. There was Kira.

He waited impatiently, flexing his hand around his wand so that his knuckles pressed white against his skin. One minute passed, then five, ten. His magic had slowed, creeping through the forest.

Finally, there was Derek.

Stiles' wolf howled in triumph, surging against him, clawing at his insides. ' _Take me to him. Take me to him! Take me to him!_ '

Clutching the book to his chest, Stiles leaned forward over Calcifer's neck. "Let's go, Calcifer!"

In the distance, he could hear the announcer rambling. ' _What was that just now? What was that spell? I have never seen anything like it in my entire life! Did Stiles Stilinski just create a new spell in hopes of finding his object? It must be incredibly important to him! And there he goes!_ '

…..

Whatever Deaton was taking that made him think that this was a good obstacle to have as part of the Second Task, Stiles wished he had shared.

Stiles crouched just behind a thatch of bushes on the bank of a frozen lake. Calcifer, small once more, huddled against his neck beneath the invisibility cloak, grumbling low in his throat at he stared over the lake. Just across from them, tied to the pillar of ruins Stiles had never known even existed out here was Derek, his chin resting against his chest. His arms had been tied behind the pillar, and rope circled his body around his chest, knees, and ankles. Resting against his breast bone was Stiles' mother's ring, gleaming despite the lack of light.

Gliding through the air around Derek were numerous Dementors, swathed in flowing and tattered black cloaks. Stiles didn't even want to imagine what so many of them could do to the crowd just several miles from them.

"You would think they were trying to crucify him," Stiles muttered to the dragon on his shoulder, "Or just outright kill him. Fuck." He ducked down quickly as one of the Dementors turned in their direction, gliding slowly forward. His wolf growled deep in his throat as frost began to form along the edge of the cloak.

Stiles released the breath he'd been holding as another noise drew the Dementor's attention and it disappeared. "Jesus fuck. What am I supposed to do about all these Dementors? My patronus is nowhere near strong enough to repel all of them, and even if it were, who's to say that they just wouldn't go and say hello to everyone watching in the stands?"

Calcifer sneezed, a stream of smoke collecting in the top of the cloak.

"Exactly my sentiments." Huffing out a sigh, Stiles set the book on his legs. "Alright book, give me something to work with. I will try anything at this point." Opening the book, he watched the pages flutter to the very last spell. 'An Anti-Patronus For All Your Dementor Needs' the title read. "What the fuck is this?" he said, gaping at the spread pages.

According to the pages, someone had invented a spell, a type of patronus, that instead of repelling Dementors, would draw their attention and pull them in any direction it went. Unlike with a patronus where you needed happy memories to produce it, for an anti-patronus you had to dredge up the worst memory you had. The worse the memory, the stronger the anti-patronus. It was relatively unknown due to the fact that it caused the witch or wizard horrible emotional turmoil.

A tidy little section at the bottom of the second page read: 'Side Effects include, but are not limited to: blackouts, survivors guilt, severe emotional trauma, suicidal thoughts, conjuring of ghosts, and reanimation of corpses. Do not attempt this spell if you are pregnant or already of unsound mind. Use with caution.'

Stiles groaned, looking between the book and Derek's prone form pinned to the pillar. Muttering a curse under his breath, he said, "The things I do for the people I love." He tucked the book back into the bag followed by the invisibility cloak. Calcifer launched himself into the trees, finding purchase close to the trunk.

Shooting to his feet, Stiles threw his arm towards the lake. Dredging up the memory of the visions he'd had at the end of the first task, the feeling of his insides unraveling, the image of his friends lying dead all around him, he shouted, " _Expecto hostium_!"

Thick, inky darkness spewed from the tip of his wand, landing gracefully on the ice. The depthless blackness of the wolf's coat was a stark contrast to the white beneath its feet. Turning, it stared at Stiles with hollow eyes.

Dread flooded Stiles' body, a hundred times worse than anything the Dementors could ever make him feel. The memory of Danny's death swept through his mind's eyes, his mother's, Laura's. The screams of the Hales' as they burned alive rang in his ears. A cold worse than any he had ever felt before swept through his body. His wolf cowered, tucking its tail between its legs, its ears pressed flat to its skull.

Suddenly, he knew. He was going to die here at the mercy of this thing that he had conjured for the whole school to watch from whatever form of viewing they had conjured up. His knees began to buckle beneath him.

The wolf jerked its attention to the Dementors descending towards it. Whirling, it darted towards the forest, silent as it fled across the ice. Where its paws met the delicate surface, deep cracks and fissures formed.

In moments, the lake was clear of Demetors and anti-patronuses, and was already beginning to thaw.

Stiles sagged against a tree, his legs trembling beneath him and his stomach churning with unease. Calcifer hovered before him, making soft, worried noises. "I... I'm alright, Calcifer. Just give... Just give me a moment," he whispered, closing his eyes to everything around him, against the images that reeled through the forefront of him mind. Finally, pushing away from the tree, he said, "Let's get Derek."

…..

' _Stiles Stilinski is the first to have retrieved his object, none other than Derek Hale, with seven minutes still on the clock! He has shown some impressive magic today, and what seem to be some spells of his own making! We can only hope that Allison Argent and Kira Yukimura fair so well!_ ' the announcer called, his voice growing ever louder the closer that Stiles drew to the stadium.

As Calcifer alighted on the grass before the Forbidden Forest, Stiles slid from his neck, dragging Derek down with him. He laid him out, quickly checking his vitals. The pack streamed from the stands, gathering around him with wide grins.

' _Kira Yukimura has gathered her object_!' the announcer shouted excitedly, overshadowing any words they may have said, ' _She's looking a little worse for wear after her tussle with the giant spiders, but she came out swinging_! _And now Allison Argent also has hold of her object after her battle with the centaurs! She seems to have a few bruises and is bleeding, but is otherwise unharmed!_ '

"Does he always have to end his sentences with exclamation points?" Lydia muttered irately, leaning over Derek with her wand in hand. "I have no idea what Deaton did to him. I can't seem to wake him up."

Fear slid through Stiles' body, solidifying his blood. He forced it down. "He'll be fine. I'm sure of it."

Before Lydia could reply, Allison's scream lit up the forest, sending birds into flight.

"Look after him," Stiles said, pressing a quick kiss to Derek's forehead before shooting to his feet. He swung up onto Calcifer's back, shouting, "Let's go, Calcifer!" They shot into the sky, disappearing before the others could even blink.

…..

"Allison!" Stiles shouted. He could still feel his magic pinging off of her from the spell he'd cast nearly an hour earlier. She was just on the edge of the centaur's territory, a bow and quiver of arrows thrown over her shoulder as she stared up at something in a tree. "Allison, what happened?"

"Stiles, I-" She threw a hand over her mouth as he landed beside her, spinning and bracing her arm against a tree as the little amount of food she'd been able to get down before the Task made a reappearance. She cursed viciously in French. "Why? Why does this keep happening?" she whispered when she'd stopped retching, spittle and bile slipping passed her parted lips, "What kind of monster can keep doing this?"

Stiles didn't have an answer for her, at least not one that he could give her without mentioning a few choice people and spilling the pack's secret. She wasn't ready for that, and even though he trusted her more now, she was still an Argent. Kate was still her aunt.

Instead of answering her, he wasn't even sure he could answer with how dry his mouth had gone, he stared up at the body. The body hung about six feet off the ground, held aloft by a chain wrapped around the corpse's throat. It's body had been burned beyond recognition. The only discernible feature was the fact that the body had been female.

Somehow though, Stiles knew exactly who the body had been. "That's... I think that's Ms. Blake, the Ghouls Studies and Ancient Runes teacher." Turning from the body, he rushed to a tree to relieve his stomach of its own contents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, according to google translate, 'expecto patronum' translates into 'I await a patron' or 'I await a protector', so when I picked the words for the anti-patronus spell, I just found an antonym. So 'expecto hostium' translates to 'I look for the enemy'. I'm sorry if I'm butchering things here, but coming up with fake spells is actually kind of fun.


	33. Over the Edge

Stiles blinked, staring around at the Hale family sitting room. Claudia Stilinski, young and healthy, sat cross-legged on the floor, a book that looked exactly like the one tucked into his pack flipped open before her. Her ring gleamed liquid silver on her ring finger. She beckoned him forward, patting the spot across from her. "Come here, Stiles. Sit with me. I haven't gotten the chance to talk with you since you were eleven. I've missed so much of your life."

Frowning, Stiles lowered himself stiffly down in front of her, his eyes burning with the tears he was attempting to swallow down. "Where are we? I was... I was just finishing the second task for the Triwizard Tournament, and... and Allison found a body, and... Mom, where are we?"

Claudia glanced around the space, tilting her head towards the softly flickering fire. "I guess you could say that we're in an 'inbetween' place. We're not in the place spirits go when they move on, but we're also not on the plane your body currently resides on. Kind of like limbo without the ill conceived notions."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "It's just where my soul is seated for the time being. I can't go onto your plane, but I can pull you onto mine, and I finally built up enough magic to begin doing that. We've got a lot to talk about, Stiles, and I've got so much to teach you as you take your rightful place as the Hale pack emissary, and also as Hale pack alpha apparently." She smiled knowingly as heat crawled up from beneath Stiles' collar. She laughed good-naturedly. "I was young once too, Stiles. I understand the things teenagers do, but I also know that what you have with your alpha is something that is hard won and few people manage to grasp onto it in their lifetime. You boys make Talia and myself so proud."

Stiles bit at his lips, the tears gathering along his lashes. "Thank you," he whispered, "We were, or at least, I was sure that I would be a disappointment. I'm always messing up"

Claudia shook her head, cupping his cheek with her smaller hands. When had he grown so much larger than her? When had he had the time between the pack and Kate and Peter and all this emissary business? "You're learning," she told him gently, "And without a teacher, at that. Everyone makes mistakes, especially while they're learning. Even more so, you've been made an alpha when sharing an alpha's responsibilities is not common in werewolf packs. In packs of wolves, yes, there are mated pairs, but for werewolves, there is usually only one alpha. That's just another special trait specific to our species. I'm going to teach you everything I know, Stiles."

Stiles frowned. "Species? We're not human?"

"We're partly human. It's been millennium since there were any of us who were full blooded."

"What's the other half of us?"

Claudia shrugged, and Stiles could only manage to gape at her. "Any records of us were lost when our blood began to be diluted even though our magic was never diluted. Whatever we are, we no longer have a name."

"Are there more of us?"

"I would assume so, but if there are, I've never met them."

Stiles was silent for a moment, chewing at his bottom lip and staring at the lust spell the book was open to. Finally, he looked back to her. "I've... I've really missed you, Mom. So much has happened that I've wanted to tell you about. I love Dad, and I can talk to him about anything, but there are things... there are things I don't think he'll understand... or take very well. Like that fact that I'm an alpha, I don't think he's going to take that very well."

Claudia patted his cheek affectionately. "He'll take it better than you imagine, I promise. Also, I should probably tell you that you have some werefox in you, probably from your father's side. Look out for a sudden shift on a full moon."

Stiles gaped. "You're joking, right?"

She turned her eyes to the ceiling, pondering the question for a moment. "Possibly. There's really no way of telling. Now, for your first lesson. 'How to Seduce your Werewolf Boyfriend 101'."

"Mom!"

…..

"Stiles!"

Stiles startled. He stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest facing the stands, watching as a group of teachers levitated Ms. Blake's body from between the trees. They'd draped a sheet over her charred remains, but there was no mistaking what was beneath the drape. He still wasn't positive how he knew that body that used to be alive, that used to hold a soul, was Ms. Blake. He wasn't even sure how he'd gotten here. Last he remembered was his mother teaching him how to dispel the remnants of summoning an anti-patronus.

' _Mark my words, you're ghost will come for you, Stiles. You'll want to be able to put them to rest when they do,_ ' she'd told him.

Both Professor Argents had their arms wrapped around Allison's trembling shoulders, guiding her from the forest. She broke from them, moving towards the pack where they were huddled in a circle. She had a bow and sheath of arrows thrown over her shoulder, a silver pendant gleaming between her collar bones. Kira clutched a ornately carved box to her chest.

The cry, strangled and feverish, sounded over the dull chatter of the students who had been charmed to their seats, "Stiles!"

_Derek._ _Derek. Derek!_

Stiles bolted for the pack, wriggling his way to the middle where Cora was holding Derek's arms behind his back. He struggled against her hold,Claudia's ring bumping against his breast bone, his eyes a bloody red that terrified Stiles. "Stiles! Cora, let go of me! I have to save Stiles! Stiles!" Derek shouted, his voice more like that of a wounded animal than of an enraged boyfriend. He was blind to everything around him.

"Stiles, do something! I can't hold him much longer!" Cora gritted out, yelping as Derek jerked at her arm with all the force he could muster. If he'd done that to Stiles, his arm would have been gone, or in the very least, dislocated.

Stiles dropped down in front of Derek, his knees on either side of his hips. Cora released his arms. "Derek, I'm right here. See me," he pleaded quietly, gathering his magic in his palms. It was less compliant than when he wore his mother's ring, but it came all the same. Gently, he cupped Derek's face in his palms, releasing his magic across his skin. "See me."

Derek inhaled sharply, the red of his eyes fading back to the infuriating mixture of every-eye-color-know-to-man hazel. "Stiles?" He glanced around at the pack staring worriedly down at them, his eyebrows pulling together. "Where are we? I thought... We were in the Forbidden Forest and you were being attacked by Dementors. There were... so many... Fuck, are you alright?!" He ran his hands over Stiles' body, searching for any visible wounds.

"I'm fine, Derek. I'm fine. Just a little drained," he told him truthfully. Derek pushed close, stealing his lips even as Stiles leaned back in surprise.

"Sheriff, Sheriff, Sheriff!" Lydia hissed frantically.

Stiles and Derek scrambled away from each other just in time for the Sheriff to burst through the group, his breath coming in hard bursts. He was already speeding through his words as he pushed between Malia and Liam, Melissa close behind him. "Stiles, are you alright? Deaton told me to look at the scene before finding you, but I told him to go fuck himself. It still took me a long time to get here and I..." He trailed off, glancing between the repressed laughter of the teens around him and Derek and Stiles' flaming faces. "Am I interrupting something?"

Jumping to his feet, Stiles jerked Derek up. "No! No, nothing at all! Thanks for telling Deaton to fly a kite, Dad. I really needed you here right now." He threw his arms around the Sheriff, staring wide-eyed at Scott over his shoulder. He laughed as Melissa dragged Derek down into a hug.

"We were worried about you. I didn't know that the Headmaster had taken you for the trial," she told him, tapping his cheek in that way that mothers do when their proud of their children.

Derek frowned, a crease forming between his brows. "Thank you, Madame McCall," he murmured, pulling her back in for another hug. When they pulled apart, he was staring at nothing in particular with eyes that nearly bugged out of his head.

Stiles accepted a hug from Melissa, watching as she pulled Allison and Kira against her chest before saying, "I think we should start clearing out, and we should probably go clean up." Allison and Kira nodded, their eyes drooping in exhaustion, "Dad, can you look after Calcifer for the night?" The Sheriff nodded.

As Melissa, the Sheriff and Calcifer bustled off, disappearing into the Forbidden Forest for the Sheriff to do an investigation of the scene, Stiles beckoned the pack back around him. "Head on back," he told Kira and Allison, "We'll see you at dinner. I need these guys to do something for me real quick." They nodded, and disappeared into the crowd of students.

His voice dropping to a snarl and his eyes flashing crimson, he said, "Someone find me Peter and Kate. This has to stop. Now."

The pack reeled back, staring at him with surprise and trepidation. "Stiles," Lydia started, but Stiles cut her off curtly.

"That wasn't a suggestion. I'm not going to let them continue killing people. Eventually, they'll come after us, and I will not see another of my pack mates die."

Reluctantly, they nodded, splitting off into pairs. Derek slipped his hand around Stiles' waist, pressing a kiss to his neck. "If there weren't so many people around..."

"You, sir, have a problem if me giving orders turns you on."

"I don't think it's a problem at all."

"Also, what was that look on your face when you hugged Mama McCall?"

"That's not my secret to tell." Releasing his waist, Derek followed after Scott and Isaac.

…..

Peter chuckled delightedly as he was led through the forest towards where Stiles waited, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes burning with crimson light. "So, the little human, or whatever you are, is an alpha. How lovely. Tell me, Derek, how was that fuck? I want to hear all the details."

Revulsion shivered down Stiles' spine, and he snapped before Derek could, "Shut the fuck up, Peter, no one wants to hear what you have to say."

"Oh, I'm sure there are a few people who like to hear my words." He glanced around curiously as Malia and Ethan dragged Kate forward to stand beside him. She was kicking and screaming and throwing obscenities in every direction. "Oh, what a lovely surprise. I didn't know I was being joined by the hideous Kate Argent. How are you doing?" She spat in his face. "I'll take that as poorly. So, great alpha, to what do we owe this delight?"

"You've both been killing not only our friends and family, but spilling innocent blood as well, and I will not stand for that. I'm not going to kill you, that's not the kind of person I am, at least not right now," Stiles said, glaring at them.

"They were monsters, just like all of you. You all deserve to be killed," Kate snarled through clenched teeth, only straining against her captor's hands.

Stiles inhaled a deep, calming breath. "I will give you both one last chance. If there is even one more murder, even the mentions of an attempt, I will not hesitate to kill the both of you."

Peter raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? That's all. You dragged us all the way out here to give us a slap on the wrist?" He frowned as Boyd and Isaac dragged him towards a stump, laying his arms flat against it.

A wicked, blood thirsty smile pulled up the corners of Stiles' mouth. "I didn't say that, now did I?" He drew his wand from his back pocket as Scott turned I face away.

"What then?"

Without warning, Stiles neatly severed Peter's right hand from his arm at the wrist. "Which of your fingers do you like best, Kate?" he asked sweetly as Malia and Liam dragged her forward.


	34. The Third Task

"It looks like Kate hasn't particularly enjoyed missing her pinkie and thumb," Lydia pointed out, watching the woman fumble her fork in her left hand. It clattered loudly against her plate. She simply glared at it, working her jaw. "I wonder what she told them happened. Maybe she told them she was messing around with some spells she shouldn't have been."

Stiles shrugged in disinterest, grinning as he saw Melissa making her way down the middle aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. He leaned back, grinning up at her. "Morning, Mama McCall, how are you feeling today?"

She smiled patiently at him, stopping to ruffle Scott's hair affectionately. She was glowing around the edges, as if a fire had been lift beneath her skin. Stiles would have been worried if he didn't know the reason behind it. "Fine, thank you for asking, Stiles. Are you ready for the last Task?"

"Well, whether I am or not isn't going to stop it from happening, is it?" he asked a little hopefully, turning pleading eyes to her.

She laughed, patting him on the top of the head like his mother used to, like she still did in his dreams as she gave her lessons. "I'm afraid to say that it won't." With another ruffle of Scott's hair, she turned towards the staff table, eyes focused on the Sheriff where he sat with Chris Argent and Rafael McCall.

"I don't know what's up with her," Scott muttered under his breath, "She's all glowy and beautiful and more motherly than usual. Not that she'd not those things all the time, but it's weird how much she is right now. I can't think of what's happened."

Stiles glanced over to Derek. After what he'd done to Kate and Peter, Stiles had coaxed the secret that Derek had been intending to hold with him to his grave from his fingers. They hadn't told the pack save for Lydia because she would have figured it out one way or another, and Melissa had only started showing a little in the last month. She and the Sheriff would announce their happy surprise to them when they were good and ready to.

Spring was beginning to show its face in the form of a rose bud here and there and a handful of green leaves attached to the Whomping Willow. By the time Melissa delivered, Summer would be in full swing, and it would nearly be time for their seventh and final year at Hogwarts to begin.

"Maybe, if you learned to use your nose and not just your eyes, you would figure it out," Derek commented absentmindedly around a strip of bacon, his eyes focused on the book he had propped up in front of him. The rest of the pack turned bemused eyes towards him. He didn't look up. "That's all the information I'm giving you."

"Spoil sport," Cora muttered.

"You should have figured it out a long time ago. You were born, not made. Anyway, learning is part of the fun."

"I beg to differ," Erica interjected.

Stiles was opening his mouth to retort when Deaton stood from his chair, looking over the students as the hall went silent. "Everyone, if you will please exit the Great Hall, the Third Task will begin momentarily once we have made the space ready."

Stiles, Kira and Allison shot to their feet, staring at him in something like horror. "We're having the Trial in here?" Stiles shouted.

"Yes. I suggest you three run and ready yourselves. Your Trial will begin in ten minutes."

"What?" they cried together, glaring at him.

Deaton narrowed his eyes at Stiles, his gaze flickering to Kate's hand for a mere millisecond before returning. "Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent, Kira Yukimura, go prepare for your Trial or it will begin immediately and you will not get any time at all."

…..

Stiles was going to vomit. Actually, he was pretty sure that all three of them were going to vomit, and then they'd absolutely have to postpone the Trial for virtue of all three champions having come down with the flu, or maybe he'd convince the other two to shove some puking pasties into their faces with him and go from there. His knees were all but knocking together, and even as he reached out to the rest of the pack for comfort, he couldn't dispel the feeling that this Trial was going to end up with someone's blood being spilled, whether it was his or Peter's or Kate's.

He didn't want to think about what the look Deaton had thrown him earlier had meant. He only needed to know that it hadn't been pleasant.

Calcifer mewled worriedly at him from the Sheriff's shoulder, spewing a gentle stream of fire in his direction. Stiles threw him and the Sheriff a wan smile, bile rising in his throat. His head jerked back around as the doors to the Great Hall slowly began to creak open.

Deaton stood just out of the sweep of the doors. He was grim as he began to speak. "Champions, this is your last Trial. You will each be assigned a proctor. They will be there to not only administer the Trial, but to pull you out if they believe you cannot complete it or that your life is in danger. A proctor had been chosen from each school. Allison Argent, you proctor will be Peter Hale. He has returned from his leave of grieving, and has graciously offered to be your proctor. Stiles Stilinski, your proctor will be Kate Argent. Kira Yukimura, your proctor will be Moshiko Yukimura."

Fear clouded Kira's face. "I-isn't that against the rules or something? She's my mother! She's impartial to my well-being!"

"Sometimes a parent is the best choice to push a child to the limit, and in this case, I believe that to be more true than usual," he told her curtly, "Your proctors will draw out your worst fears. It is up to your proctor whether they go full force, or remain as the minimum. They may increase the level of the spell at any point in time throughout this Trial. Guidelines have been set up for each proctor to ensure the trial is conducted fairly."

Swallowing thickly, Stiles said, "You haven't told us what the Trial is going to be."

Deaton blinked. "Oh, haven't I? Champions, your next Trial will be to face your worst fears and to overcome them."

…..

The three if them stood with their backs to their proctors, watching as Deaton and Professor Natalie Martin cast barrier spells between each of them and in front of them. "These will be for not only your own protection from each other, but for the protection of the students and staff members who will be watching you battle with yourself." Deaton paused, standing in front of the doorway as his eyes skimmed over each pair in turn. "This is as dangerous for you as it is for your proctors. If you die in your mind, your body will die as well. The same goes for your proctors, as they will be hovering on the edges of your consciousness. Be careful. Be mindful. And do your best. We will be waiting here when you succeed."

Stiles and Allison were shoved to their knees while Kira carefully dropped to hers. They each trembled. Glancing to each other, their expressions hardened, and they nodded.

Turning his eyes back to the crowd behind Deaton, Stiles found his pack, stopping on each member in turn before focusing on Derek. Kate pressed the tip of her wand to the back of his neck, right at the base of his skull. Derek nodded to him as Deaton called for the Trial to begin.

He was plunged into darkness, and somewhere in the distance, Allison began to scream.

…..

Fire roared to life around him, sending him sprawling back against the dry leaves blanketing the ground. The house before him, his father's house, or was it Scott's, or the Hale house, was engulfed in flames. They rose into the night sky, obscuring the stars, but sending up stars of their own. Embers tumbled through the night sky on a breeze that ran its gentle fingers through his hair.

From within the house, screams carried over the howl of the fire. He could make out each voice of his pack: Derek's, Lydia's, Scott's.

"No!" he screamed, lunging forward. His feet slipped out from under him, his knees cracking against hard earth. He scrambled forward on hands and knees, reaching towards the hands that shoved through the small barred window leading to the basement.

A form stepped in front of him, blocking his path. The screams grew louder, more ragged, more agonized. Kate stared down at him, a smile twisting up the corners of her lips. She threw her head back, reveling in the screams of those behind her. "Those are the sounds I love. Oh, they gives me the shivers. They're almost as beautiful to hear as when I burned the Hales." She rolled her head forward to stare at Stiles once more. "They're screams were nothing compared to your bitch mother's though, and oh, did she scream."

Stiles shot to his feet, eyes burning as red as the fire. "Shut up!" he snarled, his alpha's authority leaking into his words with his magic, but unlike with the pack, that only stymied her for a moment.

"Why? It's only the truth. She screamed and screamed. She cried for her alpha, but the Hale bitch never came. She left your mother to be gutted and murdered, just like Derek will eventually leave you."

"No, she didn't, she wouldn't! She protected her alpha and her pack until the moment she died! She died protecting me from a fire you'd tried to set upon me! I remember! You can't lie to me, and I will die before I ever let you do that-" He thrust a finger towards the burning house with its slowly silencing occupants. "-to my family and my pack!"

"Oh, I'd like to see you try and stop it. What can you, a useless pup playing at alpha, at leader, at emissary, at lover, ever hope to do to me? You're weak. You're useless. Your alpha thinks so, your pack thinks so, your family thinks so. You couldn't even protect the one that was the most human out of all of you. What can you do to me?"

Danny was beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He was immaterial and wispy, his voice far off and breathy, but his own all the same. "Stiles, don't. You don't have to stoop down to her level. You're better than she is."

"I have to, Danny. This is the only way it's all going to stop. She not going to stop hunting us until she's dead. It's the only way. I'm sorry."

Sighing, Danny cupped his cheek. "I understand. Just... don't leave Derek alone. If you died, Kate wouldn't have to spill blood with her own hands to get what she wants."

"I'll try my best," Stiles told him, pressing the tip of his wand into Danny's sternum. " _Requiescat in pace_. We will see you in the next life." With his whispered spell, Danny faded alongside the burning house. The black world grew silent around them. Stiles turned back to Kate. "We're going to end this here and now, Kate."

A grin spread across her lips, her hand tightening around her wand hilt. "Oh, this will be fun. I'm looking forward to spreading your innards across this forest."

…..

Stiles startled from the blackness he'd been thrust into. Warm liquid spilled down his back, and blood leaked from the deep fissure that Kate had carved into his chest. He coughed weakly, the copper tang of blood slipping across his tongue. Turning, he stared up into Kate's blank eyes.

Her hand had gone slack, her wand laying several feet away from them. Blood spilled from her mouth and the hole Stiles had blasted through her chest. Stiles threw himself backwards, away from Kate's body. Slowly, she dropped to her knees and then face first into the stones.

"Stiles!" Derek shouted just as Scott and Isaac shouted, "Allison!"

Stiles' head jerked around to stare over at Allison and Peter, watching as Peter, arrows embedded across his body, one protruding from his forehead, dropped away from her.

The crowd was stunned into silence, staring at the two bodies littering the Great Hall, at Stiles as he scrambled away from what he'd done, at Allison and Kira as they clawed their way from the darkness of their own minds.

In the next moments, there was a flurry of activity. Kira and Allison came to screaming. Deaton dropped the barriers. The three champions were carted away to the Hospital Wing, Derek and the pack fighting against the restraining hands of the teachers. The bodies were covered with sheets, and a place was found to put them away from prying eyes.

The Triwizard Tournament had ended in blood as it so often seemed to do.


	35. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explanations are thrown around and decisions are made.

Stiles stared blankly at the wall, ignoring the itch as Melissa stitched his skin back together.

"Stiles, Allison, what happened?" Kira had asked when the room had been cleared of teachers and onlookers and unnecessary personnel, but neither could respond. Their jaws were clenched tight against the words that threatened to spill from their lips, and though their beds had been pushed together at Kira's request, both kept as far to the sides of their beds as they possibly could get without falling out.

What seemed like hours later, and what might have very well been, Deaton pushed into the Hospital Wing. He strode into the room, their eyes following him as he came to stand in front of the three.

Stiles couldn't hold back the spitting words that fell from his mouth. "You bastard, you fucking bastard," he snarled, his narrowed eyes burning crimson, "You knew. You knew what they'd done to us. You knew how Kate has tried to kill me on multiple occasions, how Peter was off his rocker, and still, you let them proctor our Trials! Why? Why would you do that to us? What did you gain from watching us suffer? Explain it to me, because I am drawing a fucking blank!" His voice had risen, anger and hatred deepening his tone.

Deaton sighed. "I know you're angry, Stiles, but you need to-"

"Don't you fucking dare. Don't you tell me to calm the hell down. I am well passed angry. I'm pissed, and I have every right to be. You handed us to the wolves, literally in one sense, and you're telling me to calm down, but you know what, you can suck my ass because there is no way I am going to calm down. Not until I get my questions answered, and even then, I'm still not sure that I will."

Rubbing at his forehead wearily, Deaton said, "I suppose that is fair."

"Yes, it is."

"Stiles, you really need to calm down."

Stiles smiled sweetly. "I really don't, fuck you very much."

Inhaling deeply, and exhaling on a count of ten, Deaton started. "It was not my intention for your proctors to be Kate Argent and Peter Hale. It had been my intention for Chris Argent to conduct yours, Stiles, and for one of the teachers from Beauxbatons to conduct yours, Miss Argent, but Miss Argent, you headmistress is quite taken with your aunt and would not allow me to utilize any other teacher from your school, and after that, she also insisted on using Peter for your proctor or she would not allow you to participate in the last Trial. She was evidently aware of the bad blood between the Hales and the Argents, and was looking to see it at work for one reason or another. I had no choice once your headmistress agreed to the arrangement as well, Miss Yukimura."

"You should have fought harder," Allison said stonily, looking at him straight on for the first time since he'd walked in, "Two people are dead because you couldn't tell my headmistress no. One of those people was my aunt, the other was Malia's father. The Hales have already lost enough family members, and they've just lost another. Nothing about this situation is alright, and I hold all of the headmasters and headmistresses accountable for this."

Stiles' mind went silent for the first time since he'd had his first kiss. Dropping the barriers he'd thrown up between himself and the pack, he allowed himself to feel them. They were anxious and worried and pacing just outside the range the barrier the teacher's had set up, but underneath it all, grief congealed, thick and cloying.

"Oh, Malia," he whispered gently under his breath, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, pushing Deaton away as he reached out helping hands. His chest ached where Kate had taken her prize out of him. "Don't touch me," he snapped viciously.

Deaton withdrew his hands, his eyes hard as stone. "You need to lie down and rest, Stiles. There is only so much Madame McCall can do for your wounds. The rest it up to your own body to heal."

"If you think I'm going to sit around while Malia holds in her grief and doesn't let the rest of the pack help her, then you're fucking crazy. Get away from me before I show you what an alpha's mate is capable of. I will make Talia and Deucalion look like a field of golden poppies."

Deaton's eyes flickered to Kira and Allison, scanning over the surprise written plain on their faces. "Stiles, should you really be saying that with them around?"

Stiles glanced back at the pair. "You really don't think that they didn't suspect, do you? And even if they didn't, they were going to find out eventually. It's kind of hard to be part of a pack when you're unaware that you're part of a pack. Very kindly get out of my way." He pushed to his feet, clutching his chest as he hobbled towards the door.

"Wait for us," Allison called, sliding from her bed and waiting for Kira to do the same before they took up positions at his sides. They each wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled one of his arms over each of their shoulders. She smiled at him. "I guess this would probably be a good time to tell you that I'm from a family of hunters, but Aunt Kate and Grandpa Gerard are the only two who have really killed in the past two decades. We're taught a more diplomatic approach now, though we still have our radicals."

"And I guess since we're putting out all of our laundry, I should tell you that I'm a kitsune."

Stiles nodded. "I knew you two weren't normal. No normal people are actually friends with us. You can tell the good news to the rest of the pack when we find them."

…..

Malia stood against a pillar away from the pack, her face drawn, her knuckles clenched white in the sleeves of her sweatshirt. When Stiles could peal himself away from the pack, he stopped in front her. She turned owlish brown eyes up towards him. "Stiles, I-" she started, but paused as he spread his arms to her.

"We know you're strong, Malia," he told her, wrapping his arms and his magic around her without waiting for her to step forward, "Let us help you when you can't be." She buried her face against his shoulder allowing his warmth and magic to spread through her, soothing the aching in her chest. Her shoulders shuddered beneath his hands.

"He was a horrible person," she whispered, curling her hands in the back of his pajama top, "I know that, but he was my father. He was my father."

"I know," he told her gently. The others crowded around them, encasing the pair in a warm cocoon of flesh and teenage hormones.

Allison and Kira stood on the edges of the pack hug, smiling at each other. "Maybe we should come back here for our last year. That would be fun, don't you think?" Kira asked.

"I do like their uniforms a tad more than my own. The cloaks are nice and not having to wear a dress all of the time would be amazing. Also, Quidditch," Allison said airily, wriggling herself between Isaac and Scott, and wrapping her arm around Malia's waist.

Kira inserted herself against Allison's back. "Also, Quidditch," she agreed. The pack swallowed them greedily, engulfing them.

At the back of the crowd, Jackson hissed, "Sheriff, Sheriff! Stilinski, it's your fucking dad! And your mom is with him, McCall!"

They scattered, Stiles remaining with his arms wrapped around Malia as he grinned at the Sheriff over her head. "Hey, Dad, Mama McCall, what's happening?" he asked, grinning widely at the pair. Tracking Melissa's fingers as they gently stroked over her abdomen, his smile became just that much more genuine.

"Alright all of you, you might as well quit while you're ahead. We know about the whole pack and werewolf thing already. It wasn't hard to figure out after the claw marks all over Melissa's living room, and a few other pointers. Also, Deaton told us when we asked," the Sheriff said, watching closely as Stiles' face dropped and turned to stone.

"Awesome, more wise choices from Headmaster Deaton. Oh, how we all revere him," Stiles muttered sarcastically as Malia pulled away from him.

"Well, at least someone told us," the Sheriff replied back.

"You all need to become a little more cognizant and responsible if you're going to be siblings and aunts and uncles, because I refuse to have a bunch of vagabonds running a muck," Melissa added, "Speaking of cognizant, why are the three of you up? Especially you, Stiles! Did I release you from the Hospital Wing? I don't think so. Turn around and go back right this moment."

Groaning, Allison, Kira and Stiles turned back towards the Hospital Wing, shuffling away towards the beds that awaited them. Behind them, they heard Scott ask, "Siblings?" followed by Isaac's confused, "Aunts and uncles?"

After a long, silent pause, Erica shouted, "Oh! You're pregnant!"

…..

The school year ended with less of a fuss than any of their other years combined. In the wake of Peter and Kate's deaths, the ceremony for the end of the Triwizard Tournament was all but forgotten, with the cup disappearing from the Great Hall without notice.

Summer found Stiles bursting through his father's office door one afternoon when the rest of the pack was chasing out a tribe of leprechauns that had taken residence in the Hale house. "Dad, I need your help," he said without preamble, dropping down into the chair across from his father, staring at him over his desk, "A lot of help actually. It's incredibly important and requires the level of utmost secrecy. And you know it's genuine because I don't ask for your help a lot."

The Sheriff paused, dropping his pen to the top of his desk. "You're not wrong. This is an interesting way to spend your summer though." He leaned back in his chair. "Do you have payment for my fatherly advice?"

"Of course. Who do you think I am?" Stiles asked, setting a fast food bag on the desk between them, "There's extra curly fries in there. This was going to be used as a bribe if you said no."

The Sheriff nodded his approval, opening two napkins, one in front of himself and the other for Stiles. "What can I help with, oh son of mine?"

"When you propose to Mama McCall, are you going to go big and spectacular, small and simple? Are you going to have rings? Are you going to do it in public or private? Walk me through how you're going to play it out."

Without missing a beat as he shoved a fry into his mouth, the Sheriff mumbled, "Well, as it's already happened, I'll tell you. It was simple, in private, and without rings for now, but you have to figure out what's going to work best for the person you want to marry, and I can't really help you with that. You know Derek the best, and only you know what's going to be the perfect proposal. Just go with your gut and stick to it. Maybe you can eat that apple or drink that potion or find something in that book or use that rock that you got from your First Task to help you figure it out."

Leaning back in his chair, Stiles stared up at the ceiling. "You can Mom told me the exact same thing. I guess that makes sense."

The Sheriff stilled, staring at Stiles. "Your mother?"

Stiles nodded. "She's been giving me lessons in my dreams. It's nice. We talk about you sometimes. She's happy that you found Melissa, but she also wants a play-by-play for when you talk to Scott's dad about this whole shenanigan. She bet me that you're both going to pull your guns on each other."

"That's good. That's really good," the Sheriff whispered. "...wait, what?"

Stiles grinned. "Anyway, I think I'm going to leave that apple and potion for my kids to cause mischief with. I really don't need the knowledge of the world, or whatever that potion is... Okay, never mind, if it's Felix Felicis, I'm definitely going to need it when I propose. Oh, and the rock, or whatever it was..." He held up his wrist, flashing a thin bracelet with a stone as amber as his eyes embedded in the silver band. "I found it in my bag from the Third Task like this while I was packing. It reminds me a bit of Mom's ring." He touched his breastbone where the ring still rested.

They were quiet for a moment. "You'll do just fine when you propose to Derek, Stiles. Just walk me though what you're thinking of right now."

Stiles beamed. "Okay, well first..."


	36. The Last Year

Stiles stretched his legs across the laps of the people beside him, leaning his head back against the window. "Alright, everyone, this is our last year at Hogwarts. After this, there's no more magic school, no more waiting to get a job. It's either college or a job in the Wizarding World. We've got to make it good. We've got to make it spectacular. We've got to make it crazy and interesting. We've got to have tons of movie nights and dances that go completely awry in the space of an hour."

"So, what you're saying," Aiden began, folding his arms across his chest.

"Is that we're going to make our best attempt to get ourselves expelled," Ethan finished for him, raising an eyebrow as Stiles scoffed. "Are you saying that's not what we're going to try?"

"I don't think that after all of the shit we've gotten into since Third Year, we could actually come up with something that could get us expelled," Stiles told them, "And anyway, what kind of example would we be setting for Maura if we got expelled. She'd go thinking it's okay to go and get herself expelled!"

Erica rolled her eyes towards him. "She's not even half a year old, Stiles, she won't even remember that we got expelled."

"It's the principal of the matter. She'll hear stories about it. It will be best to avoid the situation all together."

"Whatever," Erica sighed moodily, turning her eyes out the window. Boyd traded seats with Issac, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as Isaac dropped down beside Scott with a sheepish smile.

Popping up from his seat, Stiles stared at all of them, hands on his hips. Moroseness slipped over him, sliding to him across every line and thread that connected him to his pack. The emotion came to him from even Allison and Kira who had traveled to Hogwarts the day before them. "Come on, you guys. It's our last year at Hogwarts. Why are we starting the year out gloomy? If we're going to make the most of this year, we should charge in with smiles on our faces and go start playing pranks on the other Seventh Years! You don't have to follow me, but that's what I'm going to be doing if you need me."

Grabbing Scott's wrist -because were a Scott went, an Isaac usually followed, and where and Isaac went, an Erica and a Boyd usually followed, and so on- he dragged the rather willing werewolf behind him.

…..

' _Witches and wizards, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the final Quidditch match of the year! It's sure to be a good one!_ ' a new announcer and the old one called over the stadium together. The new announcer's voice was pitched high against the older announcer's deeper thrum, her enthusiasm palpable as she stood daringly on the edge of her box. ' _Slytherin versus Gryffindor! Not only that, but players like Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale will be playing their last game today! What a tragic happening! After the year of crazy that not only they have caused, but their close friends have caused as well, I will be sad to see them go! I've been assured by their teammates though, that they are bound to put on one last spectacular game for us today with a special surprise at the end! What is that surprise, you ask? Only the end of the match will tell!_ '

Stiles hovered across the field from Derek, throwing him a wide grin as Derek shot him narrowed eyes. He pressed the tips of his fingers theatrically to his mouth, holding them out to Derek, and wilted when he shook his head. "Oh love, why do you wound me so?"

Derek didn't have the chance to respond as the announcers called, ' _The golden snitch has been released_!' Coach Finstock, hovering to the side of both teams, threw the quaffle high into the air. ' _And the game has begun_!'

Both teams burst into action, crashing against each other in a spectacular mingling of crimson and emerald. A shout of triumph rose up as Stiles got his hands on the quaffle, shooting out from the fray and darting towards the goal posts. If he wanted his plan to go as... well... planned, he needed to keep his hands on the quaffle for most of the game and have it in his hands when the snitch was caught. With the look of challenge gleaming in everyone's eyes, he doubted that that was likely to happen though.

Ducking as a bludger whizzed passed his head, he chucked the quaffle towards the Gryffindors' posts.

' _Ten points to Slytherin! It hasn't even been two minutes, and the game is off to a spectacular start!_ ' the old announcer shouted, having joined his protege on the edge of their box.

With his mind focused on other matters, he didn't much care particularly who won this game, but the faster it happened, the better it would be for him. He wouldn't have the chance to try to talk himself out of this if it all happened quickly. He'd let Lydia in on his plans, and he could hear her from where she stood in the stands beside Allison, shouting at the top of her voice.

"Go, Cora! Make me proud! Catch that snitch and see what waits for you at the after party!" she called, and if that didn't light fire in Cora's veins, Stiles didn't know what would. Her voice dropped away to silence each time the quaffle disappeared from his hands, sailing through either of the goals or passing between the two teams, but rose again when it was safely back with him.

The rest of the pack who were not part of the game, oblivious to Stiles' plan, simply shouted no matter which House scored. They were becoming increasingly louder with each of their alpha's mate's successive points though.

Stiles couldn't help but grin, purposefully reaching out to Derek through their bond. He found him in the middle of a scuffle between a writhing group of green and red. Distracted by the shot of desire the Stiles allowed along the bond, he found Stiles in the sky and the quaffle promptly dropped unnoticed by the quarreling teams. Throwing a kiss in Derek's direction, Stiles darted down, scooping the quaffle into his arms, his fingers grazing the grass of the field.

As he threw the quaffle through the Gryffindor's goal once more, he felt Erica's mounting irritation peak as she followed close on Cora's heals, chasing her and the Snitch around and around the stadium in an ever tightening circle. Stiles had only just gotten the quaffle back in his hands when they reached the middle. With a final burst of speed, Erica flew passed Cora, throwing herself from her broom at the Snitch.

The stadium went utterly silent for the space of a heartbeat while Erica rolled ass over teakettle across the field. Popping back up to her feet, she thrust her fist into the air, two tiny golden wings fluttering from either side, and howled her triumph. The Slytherins' roars joined her howl, overshadowing the announcers' voices.

Stiles was frozen, staring down at her with wide, uncomprehending eyes. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready for this! He wasn't-

"Stiles!" Lydia screeched, dragging him from his shock and fear. She eyed the quaffle he still held pointedly where it had begun to tremble in his hands.

Swallowing thickly, his hands trembling right along with it, he shouted, "Derek!" and threw it into the air.

The quaffle burst, shredded pieces of red leather flying in all directions. Fireworks exploded over the stadium, a rainbow of colors and a cacophony of sound. As they fell, they formed four words, the most important question he'd ever asked another living person.

' _Will you marry me_?' blazed across the sky, drifting towards the field, but remaining whole as if refusing to fade.

Stiles wondered if that had been by Lydia's design or just another piece of the spell they'd used to put it together. Holding out a hand, he watched as two simple rings dropped into his palm. They were silver bands, one inlaid with intricate, interlocking knots of white gold and the other with the same only in onyx. His insides were trying their damnedest to make themselves outsides, and it was all he could do to force down the nausea building in his body.

Had his father really done this two times? Was he crazy? Stiles wasn't sure he was going to make it through just this once.

Derek was staring up at the question, his mouth hanging open in undisguised shock, the colorful lights of the fireworks flickering across his face.

Slowly, Stiles drifted towards him, clutching the rings so tightly that they bit into his palm, his knuckles pressing white against his skin. "Derek?" he asked quietly, reaching out to him physically and across their bond to draw his attention. He waited until Derek had turned stunned eyes to him before continuing. "We've known each other for nearly five years now, and just like any other relationship, whether romantic or platonic, we've had our ups and downs, but we always returned to each other at the end of the day." Swallowing, he dropped his voice so only Derek could hear. "I know that being your mate transcends everything and anything else. Nothing physical could ever hold the same value as that does, but I want the world to know that I'm yours and you are mine. So, Derek Sourwolf Hale, would you do me the pleasure of being my husband, my mate, my alpha, and everything else in between?"

Derek was silent for long enough that Stiles' already sweaty palms made his grip on the rings tenuous. Finally, Derek smiled softly. "You beat me to it." Uncurling Stiles' clenched fingers, he plucked the silver ring with white gold from his palm and slid it on to Stiles' ring finger. A shuddering breath fell from Stiles' mouth, and he in turn slid the silver and onyx ring onto Derek's ring finger. "Husband, mate, alpha, and everything else in between," Derek murmured, leaning forward to steal a simple kiss, but the stadium had other plans for them.

' _He said yes_!' the new announcer screeched, bringing the pair back to themselves as the world around them exploded into cheers and wolf whistles. Down below, they could hear the pack screaming themselves hoarse, and Stiles was positive he had heard a sighed, "Finally," on the wind from Danny.

Turning to Derek, he grinned. "I guess they've been waiting for this for a while now."

Derek glowered down at the commotion. "We're not inviting any of them to the wedding, I hope you know."

Stiles sighed forlornly. "That's out of our hands, I'm afraid. Lydia started planning the ceremony and reception as soon as I brought her in on this. She said she'll take our input on some things, but most of it is just going to be a surprise. I'm just afraid she's going to try to stick one of us in a dress." He laughed lightly, but they both knew that it was a real threat. "So... what do we do now?" he asked, pushing against the excitement that the pack was throwing at him.

Raising one of those infuriating eyebrows at him, Derek wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him towards him. He spanned the short distance between them, and ignoring the rest of the world, pressed his lips to Stiles'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this was not what you were expecting for the ending, but I've had this chapter planned since I first started this project. I leave in just a few days now, and I thought I would be best that this story finally came to a close. It's been more than a year since I started it, and even though things didn't go exactly how I'd planned them, I'm happy with the outcome. I hope you all enjoyed the ride as I did, and I hope to see you all with another story in a few months.


End file.
